Anchor My Heart To Yours
by overkill-Max
Summary: Secret Service agent McCullers goes from protecting presidential candidate Wayne Fields' wife to his daughter. Can she perform her duties or will her feelings get in the way of her job? Paily A/U.
1. Meeting Emily

The sun hasn't risen completely yet, the sky is barely lighting up and I'm wide awake, running headfirst towards the river, where the screams are coming from. They echo across the trees and mountains that surround me. I want to pick up the pace but my lungs are already burning, my hands are tingling and my vision is a little fuzzy. I'm about to pass out but I don't stop. I can't stop. The screaming pierces through my body, pushing me forward. The leaves crunch underneath my boots and the black tunnel around my eyes closes in on me even further but still I press on. I'm so close I can practically feel the soft mud swallowing up my boots.

When I finally get to the clearing the screaming turns into a gurgling sound that tells me that I might be too late. I see a mass of fur and before my instincts of self-preservation kick in I take aim and unload three bullets into the bear. A blur of brown anger turns towards me and soon we are both running towards each other at full speed. I would have thought something that heavy would move slower than it actually does. The bear reaches me before I can manage to kill it with my handgun and it takes a swipe at me as I keep running to meet it, my brain not processing the scene or an appropriate reaction from the lack of oxygen. I feel something below my torso being torn to shreds and I keep shooting until I blackout.

A loud ringing wakes me up and I'm transported back to my hotel room at the Rosewood Inn. I touch my chest and then reach out to feel the scars on my left thigh, as I always do when I have this dream. I can't really call it a nightmare when I'm just re-living memories, can I? Satisfied that I'm still in one piece I shut off my alarm and check the emails I received throughout the night. Most of them are low priority stuff, dirty jokes and pictures the rest of the guys send to every agent. I roll my eyes and get out of bed, heading towards the bathroom. I turn on the bathroom light and stare at my reflection in the mirror and frown. My eyes instantly look at the raised scar tissue that I both hate and am proud of. These scars were the reason why I even got pushed up the ranks so quickly and yet… they make me feel ugly. Ever since that blonde physical therapist called me pigskin I turned all my rage towards the goal of being able to walk on out of there. I was ready to eat my own gun the first day I was back at home; it seemed like the best solution at the time. But something in the back of my mind stopped me; my competitive nature told me that it would be letting that Alison girl win. So instead I pushed it all deep into a box and stored it in the back of my mind. I could deal with the aftermath of that camping trip later.

Later turned into today and I still wasn't completely over it. To be fair it had only been about a year or so but still being haunted by nightmares and what-ifs makes me feel like a failure. And there's nothing that I hate more than failing at something. I like being the best at everything and even mental health feels like a competition where I'm not getting first place. I shake my head and get dressed for my morning run. I need to clear my head and the only thing that works is running until everything hurts as much as my scars do. Until my legs throb and I'm covered in sweat.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"Yo. Rambo, ready to roll?" Marco enthusiastically shouts at me from his spot. He's casually leaning against the hood of the car, his sunglasses reflecting everything in front of him. I nod and get into the passenger's side, automatically reaching for the coffee cup before Marco gets inside. "Fucking Rambo, that's my goddamn coffee." He complains just as he takes a sip from his own cup. I stare at him and aim my middle finger at him. "Shut up and drive Ken." He laughs and punches my shoulder playfully. I laugh along with him and warn him about keeping his eyes on the road because traffic is always heavy in the AM. We both lose it and nearly choke on our coffees. Rosewood is dead to the world; it's too early for soccer moms and kids to be outside.

When we reach the Fields residence we park on the curb directly in front of their house and walk on over to the front door. We're ready to relieve the last shift. It's just one guy from our team; usually the night shift is quieter so presidential candidate Wayne Fields' wife requested just one agent. The disruption to the family's daily life is still something they haven't quite gotten used to yet. It's still too recent. With 100 days left until the election, we've only been with the family for 20 days and Pam Fields is still getting a feel for the whole 24 hour protection thing. Ken knocks on the door after we do a quick scan of the perimeter.

"Hey Bubbles, what's up man? Ready to let the real pros take care of business." Ken happily greets the agent that gets the door. Bubbles stares at Ken's right cheek for a couple of seconds too long before answering. I glance over at Marco, wondering if it's going to get to him. Most days he lets it slide, but once in a while he gets confrontational over the lingering stares. I hate those days because I'm usually the one that is stupid enough to step in between Ken and the unfortunate soul that can't control his eyes. It doesn't always escalate to something physical, unless we've all been drinking. But even when they're sober, most of the guys I work with are pushing 40 and when some girl that's barely 23 tries to get them to settle down, it kind of has the opposite desired effect. At 7:00AM it is far too early to deal with this testosterone filled bullshit. I hold my breath, waiting for the inevitable swing aimed at David's nose.

Bubbles laughs and pushes Ken out of the way. "Whatever, they must think fucking Fields doesn't stand a chance if his wife's detail is a bunch of punk ass kids." The tension I previously felt between them evaporates and they start to rough house like a couple of boys and I laugh. The commotion summons Mrs. Fields to her front door and shakes her head disapprovingly. I can tell that even though we've disrupted her daily life, she's glad to have people around her once again. With her husband on the campaign trail and her daughter finishing up university it must have gotten pretty lonely for a woman that has dedicated her whole life to looking after others. She coughs and the guys break it up, looking flushed from embarrassment at being caught acting like hooligans by Mrs. Fields. "David, is that any way to treat poor Marco? He's just a kid. You should know better than that." She playfully hits Bubbles with the towel she was drying her hands with and ushers us inside as she glares at his retreating figure.

"How many times have I told you boys to stop fighting?" Mrs. Fields asks rhetorically as she pinches Ken's right cheek, even though he's 30, she still treats him as if he were a kid. "Go on, sit down. Breakfast is ready for you guys." Ken blushes and mumbles something before sitting down at the table. Mrs. Fields is the only person I've ever seen; aside from the medical staff that treated him; touch Marco's scarred cheek. Ever since the camping trip everyone learned to leave the right side of his face alone. I only touched it on one occasion. While we were both in the hospital, recovering from our respective wounds. When the bandages came off he started crying because he felt like a monster. He wondered how a girl was going to fall in love with him now that he was hideous and deformed. I didn't know how to react so I responded with the wrong emotion.

I laughed and when I realized what I had done, I just told him that he was overreacting. I touched his face and before my mouth could connect to my brain the words '_You're still as pretty as a fucking Ken doll Marco, so don't worry your pretty little face over it, you'll be all right. Besides it's not your looks that keep all the girls away, it's your personality.'_ He smiled and tried to kiss me, confusing my concern for romantic feelings. I jumped back and told him that I was gay. He was the first person I ever admitted that to. I couldn't look him the eyes because it was the first time I even said those words out loud. He started laughing for the first time since we both came to and wiped the tears from his eyes. _'Fucking Paige, of course you'd be gay. No kick ass girl like you could ever be with some fucking wimpy ass dude. You'd probably fuck him with a strap-on instead of letting him top you.'_ I laughed and poked at his scar tissue. _'Fuck, I should have let that fucking bear eat your sorry ass if this is the kind of thanks I get.'_ He winced and shook his head from side to side. _'Naa, don't be like that. I love you man, so thanks for going all Rambo on that bear. You know guns blazing and shit to save me. I owe you one.' _

Mrs. Fields places a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me and it snaps me out of my memories. "Thank you Mrs. Fields, you know, you don't have to cook for us. We get a continental breakfast at the Rosewood Inn included with our rooms." I say automatically, silently wishing that she doesn't take my being polite seriously enough to stop spoiling us. "I know, but I'm just used to cooking for three every morning. And please, Paige, call me Pam." Ken doesn't do polite, seeing as he's already shoveled half of his food into his mouth. I look down at my plate and smile. "Okay Mrs. Fields. Thank you for going out of your way to make us breakfast again." She rolls her eyes at me and pats my shoulder.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Our earpieces cackle to life and Bagel's voice fills interrupts our watch. "_This is agent Scott on Swimmer detail, ETA on the Fields residence is 20 minutes. Over and out."_ Ken nods in my direction from across the kitchen and speaks into his sleeve. "_This is agent Gonzalez standing next to agent McCullers we read you loud and clear and are standing by for your arrival agent Scott. Over._" I cautiously step closer to Mrs. Fields and wait for her to sense my presence near her so she can safely put down the knife she's washing before addressing her. "Mrs. Fields we just received confirmation that your daughter is on her way and will be here in about 20 minutes. Would like for us to help you prepare for her arrival in any way possible?" I offer, even though our only job is to keep her safe from any potential threats, it's hard to remain coldly professional when Mrs. Fields has gone out of her way to treat us as a welcomed presence instead of an intrusion. "No, thank you Paige. I'm almost done with the dishes and lunch should be ready by the time Emily arrives." She answers absentmindedly. Whenever she answers that way Mrs. Fields is usually going over mental checklists of everything that needs to be done. I nod and step next to the fridge at my usual spot in her kitchen and let my eyes scan the kitchen and look out the windows before resting them on Mrs. Fields again.

Even while I am vigilant, my mind tends to wonder off. Time slips away and soon our earpieces let us know that they're pulling up to the curb. When the doorbell rings Ken and I shadow Mrs. Fields unobtrusively. The door unlocks as we're making our way through the house and a sweet voice cuts through the house. "Mom?" I look up and my body shuts down. I just stop because my brain forgot what I was supposed to be doing so I awkwardly stand in the hallway and stare at her. The pictures in the house are completely dated, they stop at her high school graduation and they don't do this Emily standing in front of us any justice. Her hair is so black it's almost blue where the sunlight hits it. Her eyes are a deep brown, and warm like a summer afternoon. The way she smiles as she hugs Mrs. Fields tightly convey the love and relief she feels at being home makes my chest ache because I've never hugged anyone the way she's hugging her mom. Like that one person means the world to her. Laughter bubbles from her stomach and it shakes both of them with the pure joy of being together. I blush. This moment feels too intimate to share with three strangers.

They finally break apart and Emily's eyes meet mine. I can feel my face heat up even more and soon the tips of my ears are burning up too. _Fuck_. I think to myself; hating my pale skin because it gives my emotions away way too easily. I look at the ground and bite my lip before looking up again. Emily smiles softly and gives me a half wave before Ken introduces himself as agent Gonzalez and I'm finally able to function again. I walk up and introduce myself as agent McCullers and Emily smiles widely before saying her name. She doesn't automatically let go of my hand and our joined hands hang between us. I search her eyes for any clue as to what's going on in her mind, if she feels this connection between us or if it's all in my head but Mrs. Fields shouts from the kitchen that lunch is ready and we break apart.


	2. Morning Run

I should be cocooned in my sleeping bag, dead to the world until this stupid camping weekend is over. I hate camping. I never understood the fascination people have with sleeping on a dirt floor in the middle of nowhere. I grew up in the city. I can deal with gridlocks and shortcuts through back alleys but all this stupid nature and trees everywhere make me feel disoriented. I don't know how long I've been trying to find the source of my anxiety because it feels like I've been running in the same place for over an hour. I could have been running in circles for all I know. These woods, even though I can feel that they're the same ones we were in, look different. They became darker, more menacing. The trees are tall enough to block the sky and their branches, even though they're bare, shroud me in the shadow, making me feel more insignificant than skyscrapers did when I was a little girl. I jump over a root that is sticking out and I try to pick up the pace because the screams aren't coming the way they should. I can't tell where I'm supposed to go. Am I even running towards the one I'm supposed to save?

Sweat begins to sting my eyes and my legs wobble beneath me, I can tell that my body is exhausted but I can't stop until I find any indication that this is where I'm supposed to be. A branch breaks and the echo carries through the whole forest. I stop, needing to reorient myself and the world feels as if it started spinning faster, I look down at my feet and my shoes are buried in snakes. There's so many of them that I can't pull my feet away from them. This is wrong. Something is wrong. I don't have my gun with me and I can't understand what I need to do anymore. I look up and Emily Fields is staring back at me. She's not supposed to be here. It was just Gonzalez, Howard and me that wandered into these woods. I try to scream at her to get out but she shakes her head and points at my legs. I look down and suddenly I'm wearing shorts and my skin is moving as if there are snakes crawling beneath it. I start screaming and start scratching at my legs until there's blood all over my fingernails but I don't stop. I can still feel the way my skin is moving with the force of something foreign inside of it.

The loud beeping doesn't wake me up this time. The fact that I was scratching at my scars so hard that the skin all around them is as discolored as they are wakes me up. I check my phone. It's 3:45AM. I stare up at the ceiling and breathe deeply. I don't want to go back to sleep but I know I need to rest. We do 12 hour shifts and being an agent means remaining constantly vigilant. I can't keep my fucking edge when I can't even get a decent amount of sleep because I'm too much of a goddamn pussy to go back to sleep after a little nightmare. But I also don't want to fall into the same dream again. I feel like I'm back in the hospital again, where my refusal to sleep and confront the nightmares forced the doctors to pump me full of meds so that my body could recover. They trapped me in that nightmare and now I'm afraid of never waking up again, or remaining in a coma and dreaming the same things over and over again forever.

I get up and put the tea kettle on. I hate the instant shit they have here but I need some coffee so I don't accidentally fall asleep. I mix in the generic creamer the hotel staff splurged on and add two packets of sugar and drink it, hopefully it won't wreck havoc on my stomach this way. It tastes like shit but caffeine is caffeine. I put on my running gear and head out the door. I need to clear my head and maybe running longer than usual will help me do just that.

The packed dirt cushions my every footfall. I smile. This is where I like starting my days, in the woods that aren't from my nightmares. Where trees hide nothing menacing and I can prove to myself that there's nothing to be afraid of. I feel stubborn in a childish way. I'm not really proving anything by running outside instead of gym but I kind of have to. I have to show myself that there's nothing to fear, that even though nature is kind of stupid, I can still run in it and not feel like I'm going to get mauled by a bear or attacked by the boogie man. I keep running, breathing in deeply and exhaling, trying to calm myself down because I feel a presence behind me. I shake my head and look straight ahead at the path in front of me, refusing to feed my stupid fears but something in the back of my head tells me that I'm not alone. _"You're safe. You're awake. There's no sinister presence out to get you. This is just your fucking nightmares bleeding into your real life but you're safe."_ I chant that like a mantra that will keep me safe from my own thoughts and I speed up just a bit more. I might be safe but the seed of fear has been planted inside my head and I can't shake the feeling of being followed.

A hand touches my shoulder and all the years of Krav Maga kick in, I elbow my attacker as hard as I can and I turn around with my fists ready to break some guy's nose. I stop inches before hitting Emily Fields in the face. I'm so shocked that I can feel my jaw drop. I rip out my earbuds just as her smile freezes and the effects of being hit in the chest catch up to her body. She bends down and tries to hold her chest while gasping for air. Fuck. I must have gotten her right in the solar plexus. It hurts like a bitch and you can't breathe for like a solid minute or two without feeling like you're going to die. "Shit. Emily. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to punch you. I was… shit, shit, shit." I'm feeling so terrible about hitting her that I don't realize that she's alone. I gently ease her down on the floor and lift her arms up for her. She looks like she wants to puke. I crouch down and look at her eyes. "Just try to relax, okay? You'll be fine." Emily nods and I know that she's slowly regaining the ability to breathe. When her breaths stop being so shallow I smile and she frowns at me. "Why the hell did you hit me? Didn't you hear me shouting at you?" Emily says as she yanks her hands away from my grasp and clenches them into fists.

I feel stupid and I look down at my feet. If I hadn't had my stupid metal music turned up so loud I probably would have heard her. I should have never dropped my guard. But I wasn't on duty. I… I look up and see that she is in fact alone. She's in the woods without an agent. I don't hear anything around us other than the faint noise coming from my earbuds. "Where's Bagel?" She shouldn't be alone, even while she runs there should be an agent on her like she's a fucking letter and he's the stamp. We have to create the most secure environment for our protectees, even while they do normal shit like take a morning run. She looks confused and says "What? You just punched me and all you can think about is breakfast? What is wrong with you?"

"What?" I ask her, confused about why she looks like we're having two different conversations. "You asked me for a bagel, as if I carry a picnic with me whenever I go for a run in the woods. What about you? Where's my sandwich?" She says as she pokes me in the arm. I shake my head and laugh. Even after getting elbowed in the chest she still has the balls to sass me. "Not _a_ bagel. Bagel. Your agent." She looks confused. "Sorry, I… uhh… agent Scott?" I cough uncomfortably and look down at my shoes again. I can't believe that I forgot to address fucking Bagel professionally when talking about him to a protectee. "Ohh, he's probably still sleeping or something." I look up at her and narrow my eyes. Hearing this does not make me happy. "What do you mean still sleeping or something? He's supposed to be with you! You only got assigned one agent because your dad thought it would be intrusive to have more than one and agent Scott is supposed to be with you 24/7. You shouldn't even be able to take a shit without that asshole standing outside the stall and holding your purse." I am absolutely livid that fucking Thomas is pulling this kind of unprofessional shit. Emily looks even more pissed off than before. _Fuck_. "Seriously? I'm not some fucking kid okay. I'm 21 years old and I did fine on my own without you goons following me around everywhere, it's like I can't breathe without someone just watching me do it." She is so mad when she shouts at me that her hands are shaking.

I sigh; this was not the way I wanted to start my fucking morning. "Listen Em, we're not here to make your life hell. We're not here to be your fucking parents or tell you what to do or what not to do. We're here to do a job and that's making sure you don't get kidnapped, shot, killed or held for ransom. So yeah, I get it, you're a badass. I'll even buy you a pack of smokes to prove to the world how bad to the bone you are. But right now you need to understand that us goons in the suits are actually trying to protect you because the minute your dad became a public figure you all became public targets." Emily folds her arms over her chest and looks away from me. I groan, my legs hurt as I get up from where I was crouching. I don't even want to finish my run anymore. I feel terrible about what I did.

"Come on. At least let me make sure you get home safely before I pack up." I say, offering her my hand. She takes it and when she's staring up at me Emily asks me "what do you mean pack up? Where are you going?" I stare at her. Incredulous that she could even ask me what I meant. "Umm… I just dropped you like you were an assailant. Not only do I feel horrible for hurting you but I'm going to be selling fried chicken for the rest of my life once headquarters hears about it because they'll fire me in a second." Emily laughs, shakes her head and shoves my shoulder back. _Fuck_. That innocent little action suddenly makes me take notice of her. The way her skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat that makes her smell less artificial and more primal wakes something in me that I don't want to think about. I don't want to admire the way her shirt is clinging to her body or how I laugh along with her not because I find her funny but because she makes me feel nervous. "It's fine. I won't tell if you don't." I look down and look back up again, unsure of what she's trying to imply but hating myself for hoping it's more than just her being nice. "Come on. I snuck up on you and you just reacted. I forgive you… but…" I look at her and smile, knowing she's trying to bait me but not caring. "But what?"

"You have to tell me why you call agent Scott: Bagel." I laugh, not expecting this. "Sure. If that means I get to keep my job." I point the trail I want us to be on with my head; Emily takes the hint and starts walking. "Ok… so, agent Scott was always Scott or Tommy. Up until the day he decided to ask out another agent. She's not a field agent, she works in headquarters back in DC, and she laughed and told him: 'you're a really nice guy, but you have the sex appeal of a bagel.' He crashed and burned hard but at least now he has a good nickname." Emily laughs and shakes her head. "That's a terrible nickname! I'm glad I hang out with girls. At least that spares me from being called…" as she tries to think of a cute nickname to give herself my mouth shoots off before I can filter my thoughts. "Punching bag? Yeah because that's better than Bagel." Emily scoffs and hits my shoulder again before ignoring me the whole walk to her front door.


	3. Shifts

After walking Emily home I got back to the Rosewood Inn and stopped by the reception to get Thomas' room number. I had every intention of talking to him, letting him see that this kind of unprofessional behavior got people fired. And if headquarters got wind of it, he wouldn't just be let go, he would be used to set an example so that there would be no similar incidents in the future. There was no room for mistakes or second chances in this job. When he opened the door the whole speech I had practiced in my head while in the elevator just evaporated from my brain. There was something about the way he still had the sheets imprinted on his arms where he rested most of his weight on them that just rubbed me the wrong way. It irritated me that he could sleep through the night without worrying about having the same nightmare over and over again. That he was so unafraid of his own dreams, of the darkness that was inside of him.

I wanted to be rational over the whole thing, instead of being as impulsive as I had always been. But I couldn't help myself; I pushed him back, yelling at him about being responsible or something like that. I honestly don't remember much of the yelling we did. We were fighting, shoving each other as a way to emphasize our points. I couldn't control my emotions, I was mad because I thought if he had done his job I wouldn't have hurt Emily. If he had been with her, I would have somehow known that I wasn't in any danger, that my dreams weren't filtering into my waking hours. That I could somehow control the panic I felt before my elbow connected with someone that turned out to be real and not a figment of my overactive imagination.

The noise turned into actual words the minute Marco stepped in between us and shook me out of whatever stupor I was in. Thomas said something about not knowing what my problem was and I told him that "You want to know what my problem is? My problem is that you don't know how to do your fucking job and it's not mine to pick up your fucking slack because I'm not getting paid overtime to babysit you too." Thomas tries to grab at me but Marco pushes him back, instead he just asks me what I'm talking about. "What am I talking about? What about the fact that Emily was running alone in the forest? It's your job to take care of her. Make sure she doesn't get hurt." _To protect her from someone like me._ It was stupid but I needed to punish someone for my mistake and he was the closest target.

"What are you saying that now I don't know how to do my fucking job? Please you were still in diapers while I was chasing down perps, learning how to work my way up the ranks. People didn't just hand me shit because of who my daddy i-" Before he finished his sentence I lunged at him, landing a punch so hard that it hurt all the way up from my fist to my elbow. Marco pulled me away before I could keep swinging but not before Thomas managed to clip me right in the face. I hated that whenever one of the guys got jealous or he thought he was more deserving than me, he brought up my father or my grandpa Allen. As if their existence erased my own merits. "Fuck you. And this isn't me thinking I can do your job better than you can. This is me showing you." Thomas tries to laugh but ends up wincing instead because his mouth hurts and his nose is bleeding a bit. "Please if you think you can pull 24 hours shifts better than me, go ahead. In fact, I'll draft the paperwork right now."

"Fine." I answer, trying to challenge him again. "Good." He shouts back before slamming the door to his room. Marco finally lets me go and my body slumps against the wall. I feel like a week old balloon, just completely deflated. He grabs my face and turns it over to inspect the damage, not saying anything yet. He frowns and looks at me before sighing. _Fuck._ I feel so stupid, the way I always let my pride get the better of me. The way I seem to just fuck things up by reacting instead of thinking things through. "Rambo, you're going to end up losing your job for being so gun ho all the time." I roll my eyes, not at his words but at the fact that he's right. "Come on, don't be like that Paige." He misread my reaction to him. I sigh. This was definitely not the way I wanted to start my day. "Yeah… I… fuck. I'm just mad that you're right. Okay? Happy, you're right." I feel defensive even though he hasn't said anything yet. He laughs. "Of course I'm right." I shake my head at him. "Whatever Ken." I try to act like I don't feel like crying. "Come on, go get cleaned up, you smell bad and look even worse." I swat his hands away and laugh. "Shut up."

I get in the shower, ignoring my reflection in the mirror. I don't want to look at myself, I don't want to think about the fact that now I will be stuck with the one person I wanted to avoid spending too much time with. I hate that I thought defending my stupid pride from that asshole was more important than keeping my cool.

Once I get out I wipe the mirror and take in the way my face looks. It looks as if I'm trying to wink because of how swollen my right eyebrow is. I touch the cut right where my eyebrow ends and it bleeds a little. I wince at the pain and head on over to my suitcase to look for my first aid kit. It felt like such an unnecessary thing to bring with me but now I'm relieved that it's here. I wash my face again, apply some alcohol and put on two butterfly stitches on the cut, hoping that it won't open up while I work.

When I get downstairs Ken is leaning against the car, waiting for me to get in and Bagel is sitting in the backseat, looking miserable and pissed off. "What's up Rambo, ready to roll?" Ken asks me as if today is just another day. I laugh and flip him off. When I get inside and grab my coffee, Thomas protests as to why he didn't get one. "Really bro, you wanted coffee? I'm sorry; I guess I forgot to get you one because I thought it would smear your lipstick." Ken says. I snort as I try not to laugh, I totally see it now, it does look like he has lipstick because of how half of his mouth is all red and swollen. He curses us under his breath and looks outside his window for the rest of the car ride over to the Fields' place.

When Bubbles opens the door he sighs and stares at me, waiting for an explanation. I shrug my shoulders and pretend that I don't know what he's asking me about. After a minute or two Mrs. Fields comes out to usher us inside her home she gasps. _Shit._ We probably look worse than I thought. "Oh my goodness, what happened to you both? Did you get into any sort of trouble?" She asks, clearly concerned about our wellbeing. We both kind of grumble as an answer and she steps aside so we can go inside. I try to smile but it makes my head hurt so I just say good morning to her and tell her that whatever she is making for breakfast smells lovely. Ken and I sit down while Bagel stands around awkwardly because he ate at the hotel. I guess we somehow forgot to tell him that we always had breakfast with Mrs. Fields. I wonder how that could have ever slipped our minds…

Emily comes into the kitchen just as Mrs. Fields is setting our plates down in front of us. I tell her that she didn't have to make us breakfast, like I always do and she laughs and tells me that it isn't any trouble at all. I thank her and blush as I look down at my plate. I can feel Emily staring at me from where she's sitting. Ken mumbles something as he chews and Mrs. Fields sighs and tells him not to talk while he's eating. I laugh and he kicks me under the table. I glare at him as I rub my leg. When Mrs. Fields turns away for just a second I grab a slice of bacon off of his plate. Emily gasps and then stares up at my face again before looking up at Bagel and then back to me again.

When Mrs. Fields clears the table and Emily stands up to go to her room I stand up with her. She looks confused and before she can ask I give her a half smile and tell her that I'll be working with her now. She looks between Thomas and me again before looking at her mother, unsure of what's going on. Before Mrs. Fields can come at me with a barrage of questions I try to reassure them that it's nothing out of the ordinary. "President Ford. He was a really athletic guy, he swam daily and he was an amazing skier. In fact, he was so good that he often left the agents protecting him in his dust and he would taunt them because they couldn't keep up with him on the slopes. So the Secret Service had to recruit a world class skier who could keep up with him as a way to keep him safe in all sorts of terrain." Mrs. Fields looked between Thomas and me before smiling, looking a little relieved as to why I was telling her that we switched agents. "And since Emily and I met on our morning runs today, I suggested to agent Scott that perhaps we had another Ford on our hands, someone that was a great athlete and needed an agent that could keep up with her so that she could be as safe as possible while leading her life as she normally would. Morning runs and all." Mrs. Fields smiled up and touched her daughter's arm, she had tears in her eyes, she looked overwhelmingly proud of her daughter. "That's wonderful, did you hear that honey?" Emily smiled and rubbed her mother's back. "Yeah, that sounds really cool mom."

She stared back at Thomas and then at me once again and headed up to her room. I followed her and closed the door behind me. Emily stood in the middle of her room before sighing and turning around. She looked at me as if she was trying to read my mind and it made me uncomfortable. I looked around her room, anywhere but to where she was standing so I wouldn't have to meet her eyes because I knew that if she asked me what happened, I wouldn't be able to hide the truth. Emily moved closer to me and I tried not to breathe in too deeply. I don't want to let her overwhelm my senses but that is made impossible when she takes my right hand in both of hers and studies it closely. I bite down on the tip of my tongue so I won't wince as she starts poking softly at the skin. "Did you and agent Scott get into some sort of fight? Is that the real reason why you're taking care of me now instead of him?" I sigh and look up at the ceiling before answering her. "We didn't get into a fight… we just had a difference of opinion. But we came to an agreement and so now I'm here. That's all." She smiles and shakes her head from side to side before stepping in a little closer; invading my personal space and making the rest of the room disappear as I stare into her eyes. "You're a terrible liar. Just so you know." I laugh and brush my thumb against the tips of her fingers, the ones still holding onto my hand. "But I'm glad you said all that stuff to my mom. I think she's going to brag about it to my dad and everyone in town. So thanks." I look down at our hands and then up at her face again before answering her. "That wasn't a lie. Ford really did need someone who could keep up with him." Emily turns her head to the side and tries to hold back a smile; I wish I could read her every thought. "You think you can keep up with me then, agent McCullers?" I smile and drop my hand from hers before answering her. "I know I can." I say as confidently as I can because I was never one to back down from a challenge.


	4. Back To School

My head feels too heavy for my body. It slams against the window as it moves along with the bumps and curves of the road, jolting me awake. "Hey, you're finally up kiddo." Agent Howard is looking straight ahead, keeping his eyes on the road. I rub my eyes and turn my head so I can get a good look at a sleeping Marco who got stuck in the back seat with all our crap because he always picks rock. _What a loser_. I laugh, enjoying how uncomfortable he looks with his cheek and nose pressed up against the window and a bit of drool runs down the corner of his mouth. I shake my head and turn around, stretching my arms in front of me. "Sorry for being a terrible co-pilot." I mumble to Robert as I yawn. He laughs and hits the steering wheel with his hands. "No problem kiddo. You're actually a much better co-pilot when you're asleep and not reading the map upside down than when you're awake." He laughs and I chuckle along with him. "It's you own fault for thinking I could navigate these woods without a GPS. Seriously, who camps in the middle of nowhere? There's no cell phone service here or anything… this blows." I complain as I throw my cell phone into his glove compartment. It has no bars, not even the stupid red SOS thing for emergency calls. Robert laughs so hard that he hits a pothole because he wasn't paying attention. "You're such a spoiled city girl…" I scoff. "Whatever. Just because I will never understand the appeal of being out in the boonies next to moonshiners and serial killers doesn't make me a spoiled city girl…" He laughs once again and shoves me against the window. "Go back to sleep kiddo. I'll wake you up if I need you to get us lost again."

I wake up again, wondering if we're there yet. I try to move but I can't. It's like my body is tied to the seat. I try to turn my head to get a good look at Robert and see why his arm is gripping me so tightly that I can't move. I try to speak but the only thing that comes out of me is this choking, gurgling sound. That's when his words hit me. "Paige, kiddo, please just stay with me okay… noo… don't you fucking dare close your eyes again. Paige you need to stay awake for me, okay? This is very important; please just stay awake for me… I swear, I'm getting you both out of here, just stay awake and everything is going to be all right." I'm confused as to why his voice is so hoarse and filled with panic when a minute ago we were laughing at how much of a useless city girl I am. I finally manage to move my head but I can't look down at my own body, I only see his face and I'm shocked. His eyes are completely bloodshot and puffy with fresh tears running down his cheeks, leaving a clean trail that cuts through the blood that's caked on his face. I panic and try to move away from him but I can't. I don't know if he's gripping me so tightly that I can't move or what is going on but I somehow can't get my body to listen to what my brain is telling it to do. My breathing is ragged. I need to get out of here. This isn't real. This can't be real… this isn't happening. I struggle against everything that could be restraining me, making me feel like a prisoner within my own body, but nothing happens. I look around again and I can't reconcile all the images that are assaulting me. I don't understand why there is so much blood staining the inside of his car. Where it all came from. It seemed to be everywhere, his face, the steering wheel… it was outside of the windows… it was everywhere. I stare at the hand that is gripping the steering wheel and I don't understand how it even got under his fingernails…

I can't breathe and just as I'm about to pass out again the loud ringing breaks through and my body jolts, finally waking me up and releasing me from that prison. My hands automatically reach out for my thigh. I breathe out slowly, taking deep breaths to calm myself down as I trace the scars. For some reason this ritual always grounds me. I think it's just because it helps to remind me that this is all in the past. That I have already healed. I reach up to wipe the sweat from my face and I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. I hate these stupid dreams.

After I get ready for my morning run I head out the door and straight to the Fields' residence. When I get there Emily is yawning loudly and locking her front door. I walk up to the porch and wait for her at the bottom of the steps. She turns around waves as she says hello. "Hey." I answer her and she tries really hard not to smile as she says. "You still look terrible." I laugh. "Thanks, you look even worse than I do… and at least I got punched in the face." I emphasize this by pointing at my face with my right hand; they're both bruising a disgusting shade of purple and green. Emily tries to look annoyed but the way she smiles as she pushes past me gives her away. "Whatever. Try not to slow me down, agent McCullers." I bite my lip and smile as I turn around to walk behind her. I like the way she calls me agent McCullers, how her voice drops a little when she says it… I wonder what my name would sound like coming out of her lips.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

After we finish eating breakfast Emily starts talking to her mom as she washes the dishes. Agent Scott briefs me on what my new assignment will entail and pulls out notes, maps and schedules that he brought from his hotel room. Even though he will walk me through their daily routine when we go back to campus later today, he wants to make sure that I know every piece of information he has gathered for the past 20 or so days. I nod and occasionally ask him to clarify certain things, but mostly I remain quiet, soaking it all in. Trying not to notice the fact that he's keeping his sentences as concise as possible because his mouth still looks a mess. I wish I could feel smug about having punched him the other day, but I don't. I feel terrible, not just at seeing his face but also at seeing my own. I feel guilty whenever my fingers hurt because I flex them. I punched him so hard that I also hurt myself… maybe this is what this sinking feeling is all about, how whenever I lash out at someone because I can't control all of these stupid emotions, it always comes back to hurt me worse than it hurt them. It stays with me, even after they forget because I was the one that wronged them.

"All right, that's pretty much it, agent." He checks his watch before continuing. "We depart in the afternoon but it would be wise to have your things prepared now. One hour?" I nod and excuse myself.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

It's a relatively short car ride to her university, a couple of hours, but it still makes me feel anxious. My palms are sweating and I wipe them down on my pants for what feels like the millionth time. Maybe that's why I had that stupid nightmare last night. I sigh as we pull up to a gas station, Emily is passed out on the back seat and Thomas hasn't said a word to me during the whole ride and I want this tension to just magically go away but I know it's just wishful thinking. The car jerks to a stop as he pushes on the breaks a little too hard. "Agent McCullers." He says, breaking the silence that filled up the car until it felt more suffocating than July in DC. "I'm sorry… for what I implied back there. I was a dick and you were right to punch me." I want to tell him that it was all my fault, that violence is never the answer but he just holds his hand up, stopping all those words from falling out of my mouth. "I was just fucking pissed at you for being right. For being my daughter's age and having a job that took me twenty years to get. You understand?" I nod. I do understand. He's not the first guy to resent me for the very same reason, to imply that there was nepotism involved in my promotion because of my family name and not because I was presented with The Director's Award of Valor after the camping trip. He also wasn't the first guy I punched because he voiced this opinion.

"So…?" He lets that question hang in the air. His face looks weary; all the lines that are usually hidden behind the mask he wears at work, cut through his face, making him look as old and tired as he probably feels at this very moment. "Yeah, we're cool… mostly because you punch like a little bitch, though." I say, accepting his apology, relieved that we can put this behind us, trying to cover up my shame with a joke because I still feel that it was wrong. I should be apologizing to him. But I don't want to question it because I want us to be able to work as a team again. Even if it's just for a couple of hours and I would prefer to have Ken instead of him sitting next to me. He laughs and shuts off the ignition. "Whatever, we all can't be made out of steel, now can we, Rambo?" He tells me jokingly as he gets out of the car and slams the door shut. I unbuckle my seatbelt and open my door, leaning out and yelling at him. "Hey Bagel, don't be a fag and bring me some coffee and a donut." He turns around and smiles before flipping me off. "Fuck off Rambo; I ain't your goddamn secretary." I laugh so hard that I snort. "Two sugars and one creamer." I remind him before he enters the mini-mart.

I hear something in the backseat and I turn around, Emily moved from where she was but I don't know if she was awake or not. I slide back onto my seat and shut my door. I stare at her from the rear-view mirror, trying to determine if her breathing is shallow enough for her to still be sleeping. I don't know why I care but I don't want her to hear any of that. I don't want her to know that she was right, that Bagel and I got into a fight because I'm still ashamed of it. Even if he acted like he provoked me, it was my fault that I couldn't keep my cool. I don't know why I'm just so full of anger all the time. Why all it takes is just a tiny spark to make me explode… why Marco is the only person that can get away with saying the same shit most of these guys say. Before I can think too long, Thomas opens my door and hands me a coffee cup along with some Sno Balls. I make a face before I can control my reaction and he takes them back, ripping into the packaging and taking one before throwing the other one on my lap. "I don't know how you can eat that shit, they taste awful." I say as I grab my own and take a bite. He leans back against the car as he starts filling it with gas. "Please, I got these bad boys for myself. You're lucky I'm even sharing." I take a sip of my coffee to wash down the Sno Ball, scalding the roof of my mouth and tongue but not caring because its caffeine and it has enough sugar and cream to make it taste just the way I would have made it myself.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

When we get to campus, I try to memorize the route we take to Emily's building but I know I won't get it down until a day or two because the sheer size of the university is overwhelming. We go inside Emily's building, using a side entrance that's clearly marked "Emergency Exit Only," because sometimes you just have to avoid crowds. We go up the stairs to the fourth floor and head left until we hit the corner room, it's a double. There are two actual rooms inside, a bathroom with a shower/tub combo and a toilet, a sink with a large mirror outside the bathroom. There's a shared kitchen area with a mini fridge and a microwave, surrounded by cupboards. And right next to that, to the left of the main door there is some shelving space with a lot of shoes and coats. I smile, impressed at how different this dorm is from the one room with bunk beds that I had to share back when I was in school, this is so unlike my university experience.

As I stand outside in the common area, I can hear agent Scott packing his suitcases and Emily talking on the phone excitedly with a friend. I lean back against the door and let my hand drop from where it was gripping one of my suitcases as I try to imagine my new life of being stuck in a college campus again. Of sharing a bathroom with a roommate, a mini fridge and late nights of not being able to sleep because I'm too busy studying for a test I forgot I had to take the next day. I look down at my feet and try not to smile at this because it feels good to pretend that just for a moment I'm not an agent, I'm just a girl and this is some parallel life I could have lived. Where I'm normal and everything isn't complicated. But agent Scott comes out of his room, with all of his luggage, ready to go and I remember that I can't afford to daydream about being some other girl because I'm just Paige McCullers and some days that has to be enough.

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**Author's Note:** Sorry for jumping around a bit on this chapter, but I have to get the story moving, right? ;) And thanks to everyone that keeps reading and adding this fic to their favs and subscriptions. I feel the love :)


	5. Adjustments

Working all day, next to someone, regardless of your profession, is always an adjustment. In our jobs, it's not just the protectee that as to adapt, we do too. Every protectee is different and we, as agents, have to adapt to their style, their way of doing things. And in turn, the protectee has to adapt to full time security. It's not always easy at first because they go from being able to perform the most mundane tasks, like making themselves a cup of tea in silence to suddenly having someone following them, literally every step of the day. It makes people feel invaded because they don't have a lot of privacy anymore. Whatever they normally did becomes a shared activity instead of something they get to have to themselves. They can't sing in the shower without having an audience because you're right there. You have to be around them constantly and being in such close proximity with another person means that you see them in every situation there is to see another human being.

I didn't understand how different it would be to see Emily in these types of situations because I was used to 12 hour shifts with Mrs. Fields. I had the weight of the title Secret Service agent in front of my name to help differentiate who Paige McCullers the woman was from the agent. I was able to let Mrs. Fields see the only side of me that she was supposed to. The side that was nothing but professional, reliable, detached: the agent part of me. She adjusted easily to who I was because she never saw me outside of a suit. I always had my hair slicked back, gun holstered and when we were outside, I wore my sunglasses. After I left, I could go back to my own space, a hotel room where I could hole up the rest of the day or catch a game with Marco. If I was in a bad mood, the only person that had to suffer through that was me… or occasionally Marco, because he's a fucking masochist like that.

With Emily, it's different. We don't just share a dorm like roommates, I have to go to all her classes, her swim practices and eventually her meets; we spend the whole day together. This means that she doesn't just get agent McCullers, she also gets Paige. Emily sees me when I'm grouchy without my morning coffee, just as I get to see her be slightly disoriented when she gets up. We see each other when we're brushing our teeth and getting ready to turn in for the night. I see her when she's happy about an exam being delayed and when she's sad about something her coach said. In turn, she sees me when I call Marco to make fun of his fantasy football teams bombing against mine or when I'm disappointed after getting an email from my father. We both are learning to adjust to the fact that now there's this whole other person sharing all the moments you would usually have for yourself. And believe me; you don't really notice how all these private moments add up until they're not exclusively yours anymore.

I sigh and turn over again. I don't know how Bagel fucking did this. It feels like I'm split down the middle sometimes. Even though I'm always professional outside of these four walls, it still feels like in here… like I haven't mastered the art of remaining a professional around Emily when we're alone. The mask just kind of slips, and I'm back to being Paige. As if the endless hours of training that probably add up to years don't count for anything because they're useless against her. I lay down on my stomach and hug the pillow beneath me. I wonder how other agents did it before me. If they were just able to compartmentalize these weird and confusing feelings and just get on with their lives. I push in my cheek with the corner of the pillow and bite the inside of my cheek, I'm sure I'm not the first to confuse proximity with something else, right? Maybe I'm just adjusting differently to having Emily around all the time… yeah… that must be it.

A knock at the door stops me from torturing myself with these same thoughts and I call for Emily to come inside. "Hey… ummm… I didn't wake you up did I?" She says, staring at me from the door. "Naa, I was just over thinking stuff again." She laughs, even though it wasn't really a joke. "Well I'm sorry I interrupted your midnight hobby." I shoot her a smile as I sit up and push my hair back, Emily bites her lip as she stares at me and I wonder if she can hear my heart beating too fast for my chest. Even though it's impossible, I worry about it. "So… yes… I kind of couldn't go to sleep and I was wondering if you were up for a little adventure?" She says this while spinning her keys on her index finger. I laugh as I nod my head and start putting on my holster over the wifebeater I'm wearing. "So where are we going this time?" I ask her as I pull on a sweater that supports her swim team. Emily got it for me during the first week I was here. She said that me wearing a suit all the time to follow her around freaked people out because I looked like some sort of pissed off TA that was out for blood. I thanked her for the gift as I told her that this wouldn't make me friendlier to her stupid classmates and she laughed, pushing my shoulder back and shaking her head. I still don't know if I should read too much into it or if she got one for Bagel as well.

"Ready?" She asks, ignoring my previous question. I know that she doesn't even know where she wants to go; she just likes taking walks to clear her head when she can't sleep. I nod as I finish tying the laces on my trainers. "Yeah, come on." I say, pretending to be grouchy about the whole thing. She rolls her eyes at me as she opens the door and pushes me through it. We walk through the campus in silence. It's nice. The first time she woke me up for one of her late night excursions, I didn't know what to expect, maybe drunken frat boys cat calling as she sneaked off to a party… in her pajamas… okay I didn't really think it out very well. But now, it feels like our own thing, where we can just forget the world for a bit.

She turns left and soon we're out of the campus and walking on the edges of the university. Everything is quiet and the only thing I can hear is the occasional crunching of leaves beneath our feet. I put my hands inside the pockets of my sweats as I scan the area. Emily is being unusually quiet and instead of putting me at ease, I feel anxious, like I want to ask her what's wrong but feeling like it's not my place to do so. After another couple of blocks I stop walking and she does too, turning around to stare at me, I can see by the way her face scrunches that she wants to know what's wrong. I shake my head and I raise my eyebrows at her, asking her the same thing. Too afraid of breaking the spell we're under. She looks down at the ground and sighs, a small cloud of fog leaves her lips. It's finally starting to feel like fall.

I take a step closer to her and then another when she doesn't look up. "Come on Em, what's up?" I ask her, wanting to know why she's been needing to get away from the dorms these past couple of days when she knows she needs to be up early for swim practice. Her shoulders drop and she stares at the empty street next to us. "I… nothing…" She tries to lie. I step closer to her and tilt her head up with my hand. "Bullshit." I say, calling her out on it. She laughs and looks into my eyes. I stare down at her; our breath is a small cloud of condensation between us. She looks stunning in her pajamas and I can feel my hands start to sweat from nervousness. I don't know what's wrong; I just want to kiss her, to let her know that she means everything. Instead I drop my hand and pull her close to me. Anything to stop me from doing something stupid. She sighs into my neck and holds on to me as her body shakes. I want to stop her from crying but I don't know how so I just hold her tighter and rest my cheek on top of her head.

After a while she calms down, wiping her eyes with her hands but not moving away from where I'm holding on to her and I can feel my heart catch up to this moment. Beating faster and faster like we're running towards the same place. "I'm sorry." She apologizes unnecessarily. "It's fine." I answer her, breathing her in because I don't know when I will be able to hold her this close to me. "It's just that… my ex… we've been texting back and forth lately and… I just can't do this again, you know?" I nod even though I don't know. She grabs one of the strings from my hoodie and start pulling it. "Whenever I get the texts I'm happy and then, I remember why we didn't work out… and I just want to stop because what if she's still the same?" Emily says this as she sucks on the pull string and I don't know what to say, I was never very good at being comforting. "I don't know, maybe Spencer and my mom are right, I should just tell her to leave me alone, that I'm not just going to hang around waiting for her to call me when she gets bored of whomever she moved on with." She laughs bitterly at this and continues. "I hate this, whenever I feel like I'm finally okay she comes back to disrupt my life and this time I'm just kind of too tired to play into her games. I just want to move on with my life."

I want to laugh because I feel uncomfortable, I feel like I'm the wrong person to be hearing this. That she should be talking to one of her friends. But I understand why she wouldn't tell them either, if they couldn't even pretend to like this girl while they were dating then they would be tired of hearing about the new ways she was hurting Emily. "That's awesome." I think and her body tenses in my hold. "What?" She asks me, pushing away from me so she can look me in the eyes. Fuck… that was out loud then. Okay just go with it Paige. "I mean, not that you're feeling kind of shitty and can't sleep, that sucks. Just the part that you're too tired for her games and are ready to move on, that's pretty awesome, right?" She narrows her eyes as she thinks about what I said. The street light above us flickers and dims and I want to kiss her again because she looks gorgeous, even while she's emotionally exhausted. Emily Fields will never stop being stunning and I feel like a terrible person for wanting her when she's clearly thinking about somebody else.

She chews on the string and I step close enough to where she's almost breathing the same cloud of fog that's coming out of my lungs. Emily looks up at me and I smile. "Come on, if you don't stop chewing on this soon I'll return to the dorms without a sweater." I say as I pull the string from her mouth. She laughs, not the kind that is still full of pain that she's trying to cover up by indulging me but an actual laugh, like she will be over this whole thing sooner than she realizes. "Ughh, you're so annoying." She says as she pushes me back with both of her hands and I laugh. She rolls her eyes and takes the pull string, defiantly putting it in her mouth again as she begins walking. "Do you want to stop by a junk yard so I can find some old shoelaces or cans you can snack on?" She playfully elbows me in the ribs and tells me to shut up.

As we make our way back to the dorms I think about how I could have kissed her. How I should have and I wonder if she's as disappointed as I am that I didn't.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry that it took forever to write this. I hope it was worth the wait ;)


	6. Coffee

I think I've been screwing up. I don't know how, exactly, but Emily just seems sadder lately. She hasn't been leaving her room unless it's for swim practice or classes. And it feels like all I really do most days is stand outside her door, with my fist in the air, waiting for the right words to come to me so I can knock and make it all go away. So I can fix whatever is wrong. I wish I knew how to apologize for the world being so unfair, for not doing things right… but I can't. I was never any good with words. I lean my head against her door and sigh as I press my hand on it. I count five seconds in my head and I push off, head to the bathroom, pretend that it was my destination all along.

I turn on the light and gently close the door. I look at myself in the mirror and frown. I wonder what her ex looks like. I bet she's gorgeous. No. I know she is. She would have to be. Otherwise why would Emily love her so much that it still hurts? I touch my eyebrow, where the bruises used to be and then run my finger down until it's beneath my eye, on top of the dark circles that have become more prominent as Emily withdraws further into herself. I let my hand drop and sigh, looking down at my hands. I clench and unclench them into fists. This is pointless but I can't stop myself. I don't even know who I'm comparing myself to but I know I've already lost because all I see when I stare at my reflection is the things I want to change. I notice everything that is wrong with me, everything that I'm not but wish I could be. I hate that I don't know how to protect Emily from this kind of pain. I bet her ex knew how to make her feel better, knew what to say… I hear Emily's door open and I glance at myself once more before turning off the light and opening the door.

"Hey…" I say, trying to sound casual but knowing as soon as that greeting leaves my lips that I failed because Emily sighs. I make my way over to the kitchen area and pour myself a cup of coffee. We have a bit before she needs to leave for her first class. I steal glances at her while I mix two spoonfuls of sugar and a bit of creamer from the mini fridge. Emily shakes her head as her fingernails scrape away at an imaginary stain. I take the spoon out and put it in my mouth, cleaning it before setting it down on the countertop. I open my mouth to say something but stop because I don't know what it should be. I take a sip from my coffee instead, leaning against the counter with my hip and I look at her. Searching her face for any clue as to how she feels today. "Please. Don't." She says, it's kind of pained and tired and I want to hold her until that feeling leaves her body for good. I stare down at the counter as I breathe out slowly because I don't want to scare her off by saying the wrong thing… or by doing something stupid like reach out for her hand so that I can hold it… even if it's just for a moment.

"Don't what?" I ask her after she lets her words hang in the air and doesn't finish her thought. I hate it when people start sentences and then just leave them there, waiting for you to figure them out. To complete them like some kind of high stakes mad libs. She sighs and her body turns towards me. "Please, don't do this." She moves her hand back and forth between us and I take a step towards her. "Do what?" I whisper. I don't know why. "This." She says again, pointing at herself and then at me, as if that explains everything when it in fact says nothing. "This?" I ask her, stepping closer. She takes a shallow breath and licks her lips before speaking again. "Yes, this thing where you treat me like I'm made out of glass just because Maya won't leave me alone." I nod. "Okay then. I won't." I lie. I know that I can't stop treating her like she's the most precious thing in the world. I like protecting her, regardless of what my job description says. I would do anything to keep her safe. Even when this is just about a girl that doesn't love her the way she deserves to be loved.

I can feel her eyes searching my face and I look down at her lips. Hoping she can't read my mind and secretly wishing she could because then she might be brave enough to kiss me. I can feel the corners of my mouth turn up at this thought and she nods, thinking she sees something else. I lick my lips and she smiles. The air feels thicker and I know my hands are shaking. I want to tell her how much she confuses me in the best way possible, but I can't. That has never been me. So I do the one thing I know how to do very well. I sabotage the moment before she can get deeper inside of my heart. "So… does this mean that now is a good time to bring up the fact that your coffee tastes horrible? Since you're not made out of glass and all…" Her jaw drops and she pushes me back, I smile at her because I like it when she does that. "Shut up. It does not." She finally huffs, pretending to be hurt, while biting her lips so she won't smile. "Yeah, it does." I say as I smirk, enjoying riling her up. "In fact, I think that you're breaking several Geneva conventions by just letting me drink it. I should probably report you for this." I emphasize this by drinking some coffee and pointing at her with the mug. I like how it burns on the way down, the same way Emily seems to burn me by just standing close to me.

Emily smiles as she places both of her hands around my cup, her fingertips grazing my hand. I forget how to breathe for a couple of seconds and I can feel my fingers lose circulation from holding on to the handle too tightly. She brings the cup to her lips and takes a sip, never breaking eye contact. I breathe in through clenched teeth because I don't know how she turned the situation around on me like this. She makes a 'mmhhm' noise in the back of her throat as she narrows her eyes at me and nods. "Yeah, you're right. It does taste bad." I can't even gloat for being right. The most I can manage is a nod. I must look as stupid as I feel. "But… it's probably because you put too much sugar in it." She takes the cup from my grasp and pours the rest of my coffee down the drain, and then she sets the mug down on the sink. "I was drinking that." I complain. "Was… past tense, right?" I scoff at her childish comeback and she smiles. "Come on, you said so yourself, it was inhumane. Frankly I'm surprised you haven't called it in… you know get me on one of those little war tribunals for making terrible coffee." She says, mocking my fake indignation. I'm about to say something when her phone goes off. Emily jumps back and blushes, the moment is broken and as she fumbling with her cell phone I grab her backpack and pat my pockets, making sure my keys and phone are in my pockets before heading for the door.

As I reach for the doorknob Emily comes up behind me and tries to take her backpack from me. I drop my hand and turn around. I raise my eyebrows at her, asking her what she thinks she's doing before readjusting it on my shoulder. She rolls her eyes and sighs. "You said you wouldn't do this, remember?" I shrug. "Do what?" Emily rubs her forehead before answering me. "This, where you treat me like I'm some fragile thing." She says, exasperated. I've been caught. The past couple of days I've been going out of my way to be nicer to her. Even when it's not my job to make her life easier by carrying her books or her gym bag around because I'm a Secret Service agent and not a pack mule and for some reason, today is the day when she speaks up about how tired she is of me doing that. She wants to prove that she's not the weak link in this equation but I also like being… I don't know… chivalrous… is that even a thing anymore? "This?" I ask her as I readjust the backpack. I'm not going down without a fight. "You must be sorely mistaken if you think this is me treating you nicely because I feel sorry for you or whatever… I'm just holding your stuff hostage until you get me another cup of coffee… preferably one that won't be considered a war crime." Her eyes jump around wildly, I know she wants me to react, so I don't. My face is once again the mask of an agent that I wear. I need to show her that this isn't about her being strung out over her ex; this is about me wanting to prove something to her… I don't know what yet, but it feels important enough to draw the line here. Emily takes me in again before finally nodding her consent and we head out of the dorm through the emergency exit on the side of the building.

We walk through the campus in silence. Emily has her hands in the pockets of her sweater and I'm holding onto her backpack with my left hand, making sure my right is free just in case I need to reach for my gun. I scan the crowds of students around us, trying not to think too much about our earlier interactions. I don't know if we shared a moment or if it meant nothing, just two girls teasing each other… I breathe out and steal a glance at Emily before paying attention to our surroundings again. I wish I knew how to navigate this thing between us… I wish that there was something between us other than my wishful thinking. I'm probably reading too much into this because I want there to be a reciprocal attraction. Emily is probably just being nice to me because that is who she is, that is who she's always been. She's not flirting with me. Why would she? She probably just sees me as I am: a Secret Service agent that is here to do a job. I'm probably nothing but a badge and a gun to her, just like Bagel was, just like the next guy will be.

Before we reach her building she stops suddenly and I kind of slam into her because I wasn't expecting her to just stay there. "Sorry." I whisper apologetically, blushing as I look down at the faded path we were walking on. She laughs and I take a breath, trying to build up the courage to look up at her because I'm still embarrassed at being so clumsy. "Listen… I know I promised you a better cup of coffee… but how do you feel about questionable coffee and some overpriced baked goods instead?" I nod. I was so busy overanalyzing our exchange that I had completely overlooked the fact that she dumped my coffee before heading out. Her body relaxes and she smiles. "Come on then." Emily says, leading the way out of the path we were on. We cut through the grass, heading for a table that's manned by two girls that look hung over. Emily asks for two cups of coffee and looks over at me, raising her eyebrows and pointing at the table with her eyes, asking me to decide what I want. As I'm deciding between the chocolate chip cookies and the banana bread one of the girls yawns, hands Emily our coffee and sits back down. Emily grabs the communal spoon they have there, pours sugar once and dumps it in a cup, then again and she beings stirring as she eyes the powdered creamer. She glance at me and I quickly look away, pretending to be undecided about what baked good I want. I look her way and turn my head away as quickly as I can because she caught me looking at her. I blush as I grab the biggest chocolate chip cookie. I scan the table and find the napkins, but Emily and I reach for them at exactly the same time and our hands brush against each other, making us look up in each other's eyes and laugh nervously as we turn away. Emily clears her throat, pays the girl that's closest to her and stuffs her change in her pocket. Smiling up at me as she hands me a cup of coffee. The one she put sugar and cream in… hers is black. I smile into my coffee, looking at the edge of my cup, avoiding her eyes so she can't see how excited I am about this small thing. I never told her that I like two sugars and a bit of cream in my coffee… and yet… she must have watched me enough times to figure this out… Does this mean anything more than her just being nice? Do I want it to?

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**Author's Note:** Thanks for all the kind words you guys have said about this fic... now I feel cruel for posting this chapter because it feels like I'm just teasing you guys...


	7. Presentation

I'm standing in front of the window, looking outside at the leaves as the steam rises from my cup of tea. It's absolutely breathtaking, the trees look like they're on fire; everything is bright red with splashes of yellow and orange here and there, adding to the effect. Fall colors always make me smile because of how gorgeous they are… and right now I need something equally beautiful to distract me from my thoughts of Emily… something that I can actually have because it's hopeless to want her the way I do. I don't know if I liked it better when she was locking herself up in her room all day to this. Where I don't know where I stand because we're constantly stepping over the lines and redrawing them only to be wiped away again. I have never been so confused and excited about someone before. And the best thing is that I get paid to spend all day with her, which also makes it the worst, because my job is to protect her, not to like her this way… This is so fucking pointless, to torture myself with the possibility of anything beyond what we have because it would jeopardize my ability to protect her. It could cloud my judgment and put her in danger… I would also lose my job but I am less concerned about that than losing her… and yet… if there was a possibility that she could… no… before I get carried away by thinking about actually liking me the way I want her to, I raise the cup of tea to my lips and take a small sip, not wanting to scald my tongue. It's a pointless gesture because the liquid is too dark and lukewarm to do any harm. I don't care that it's too strong and not sweet enough because I don't even like tea. I just made myself a cup so I would have something to do and I'm drinking it for the very same reason. Because I'm bored of being stuck with these same things eating away at me all the time and sometimes taking a break by pretending to have a purpose, even when it's just making a cup of tea, can be a relief.

I set my cup down and scratch my thigh. I've always loved the change of seasons but now it's difficult to appreciate it as much as I used to because the volatile weather makes my scars throb. And it seems that no matter how much I scratch them or rub them, they still ache, reminding me that they're there. I wonder if Marco feels the same thing on this cheek. If he can tell when the temperature will drop or rise by how badly his scars itch. I scratch over my pants and then rub down the area, trying to find a way to soothe that weird feeling that sometimes takes over my skin. I look at my reflection on the window and breathe on it, fogging it up as I keep scratching. I don't know if it's actually just psychosomatic of if my leg does in fact hurt. All I know is that the dull throbbing always happens whenever the weather changes. I can't stop it and I refuse to get hooked on pills for something that might not even be real. Something that I can ignore most of the time. Hell, whenever my scars itch I don't even have nightmares because I wake myself up in the middle of the night due to all the scratching I do. Interrupting any horrible dreams or memories I might be having. It could be the movement of me trying to dig into my own skin or maybe it's the raw feeling I have over that whole area that finally jolts me awake. I don't care. I'm just happy that I don't have to be stuck in dreams where I'm reopening all the sutures and my hands are covered in blood. I take another drink of tea and exhale. I hate those nightmares where I'm stuck in that hospital bed again, without a way to communicate, just being pumped full of meds to calm me down. Until I'm so fucking high that I hallucinate because it still freaks me out, the things I saw while my body recovered, the things my brain made up to fill in the gaps between reality and my nightmares. Maybe I'll never actually get out of that fucking bed…

There's a knock on the door and before I can say a word, Emily's head pops in. "Heeey…" She says at my empty bed, confused for a second before turning her head slightly to see me standing by the window. "You're not in bed, being all brooding and mysterious? I thought it was the only place you were allowed to be in while you're here." She says, pretending to be shocked as she points back and forth between my empty bed and me. "Hahaha, very funny. I wonder how your parents even let you go to college instead of being a comedian. I know I'm disappointed that you're squandering away your talent in this place." I say as mockingly as I can. Emily's jaw drops and her eyes widen like she's trying to imitate a cartoon character. She comes inside and doesn't laugh, but her face radiates equal parts joy and annoyance. It's my favorite expression of hers. When she's trying to think of something funny to say to me while trying not to laugh because it would mean I won. She comes up to me and grabs the end of my tie while smirking. "Oh wow, Agent McCullers woke up on the sassy side of the bed today. Must be all that terrible coffee you're no longer drinking." Emily emphasizes this by pulling on my tie a little, bringing me closer to her and I want to lean in and lick her lips before kissing her. I blush at my own thoughts, at how bold they can be. Even when it's safe to fantasize about kissing her, it feels wrong to harbor these feelings when they could not be reciprocated… or even worse, if they could.

I roll my eyes and grab the middle of my tie, pulling at it. She lets it drop after instinctively holding on to it a bit tighter. Emily laughs nervously and I smile at her before teasing her. "You know… you really should be nicer to me before asking me for favors… that's normally how these things work… or so I've heard." Emily blushes and looks away. "What? I am always super nice to you. You on the other hand…" I laugh and shake my head, pretending that it's not true. "And besides, what makes you think I came in here to ask you for a favor? I could have just wanted to hang out." She continues, trying to sound mad at the accusation. I roll my eyes at her and scoff. "Come on… what is it?" I tilt my head to the side and look at her. Emily bites her lip until she finally gives in by cracking up. "Fine… I need an audience to practice my presentation." Even though she mumbles the last part at her shoulder, I smile. "See now that wasn't so hard, was it? I would have added a bit more begging, but you can't always get everything right on the first try, can you now?" I tease her. She ignores me as she tells me not to move, that she needs to get her stuff from her room. I nod, drink the last of my tea and head on over to my bed. I prop my two pillows up against the wall, knowing that she needs me to pay attention even though I know most of the information already. She has been reading cue cards or the bits of highlighted text out loud for the past week while sitting at my desk or laying down on her stomach on my floor. She doesn't lock herself up in her room anymore, but she's constantly with me and I haven't caught up on my paperwork because of it. I've been too busy watching her over the edge of my computer screen while she works, pretending I'm doing the same thing.

I sit down and close my eyes for a second, trying to remind myself that it's okay to constantly be looking at Emily. That it's my job to do so… but I can't fool myself. It's not my job to notice the way the sunlight gets trapped in her hair as the day goes by, outside my window. Or how she sometimes squints at her book when she's reading something she can't quite figure out. Even the way her oversized shirts fall off to the side, exposing her shoulder and maybe a bit more skin than she intended as she leans against my bed and mumbles to herself as she's studying. "See, I knew that if I left long enough you would return to your natural habitat." Emily jokes. I turn my head towards her voice and open my eyes. She's smiling at me, even though it looks like she could topple over at any minute. She's carrying her laptop in her hands, dozens of note cards and papers rest on top of her keyboard along with her class books and her highlighters and pens are precariously balanced on top of it all. I jump out of bed to help her, steadying the things she's holding and then taking them from her grasp before they can tumble. "Thanks." Emily whispers as she lets her hands drop to her side. "No problem." I tell her the truth. It will never be a problem to rush to her side in order to help her. I turn around and set her stuff down on the desk that used to be mine but over the past couple of days it has become more overrun with her stuff instead of my own. All of the things I brought for work are stored in the bottom drawer. The top two just serve as storage space for Emily's things. She says she likes working in here because my room actually has a window, unlike hers. I like to pretend that it's because she wants to be closer to me.

I plug her computer in and take a seat on top of my bed. Emily starts organizing the stuff she brought in and after a couple of minutes she puts the presentation on full screen and turns around to face me. She starts off but Emily is so nervous that she loses her place several times from where she's reading and fumbles around with the slides. Even though I find her being a bit of a mess over this whole thing super cute, I don't want her to bomb her presentation. I stand up after a couple of minutes of her being a complete wreck, with her voice fluctuating and everything, and I walk over to her. Her eyes tell me that she knows it was horrible but she's hoping I won't voice what we both know. "Come on Em, it's just me." I tell her. She sighs and stares at the papers in her hands. "Yeah. Sorry… I just… I really hate presentations because I suck at them." I gently pry the papers she's clutching from her hands and set them down on the desk behind her, her hands are shaking and I hold them in mine. "Hey." I say, pulling at her hands so she looks up at me instead of the floor. "Why don't you try talking me through the material instead of reading it, okay? Just tell me what this is about, you know this stuff. You've been working your ass off for like a week to get this ready." Emily laughs and shakes her head up and down. "Yeah, sorry. I just… I really hate doing this. I wish Professor Freedman would have just let me do an essay like the others." She says, looking down again. "Would it help if I pistol whip him a couple of times?" She laughs at that. "Why don't we try what you suggested before and then if that fails you can bully my professor into no longer giving me extra work for the days I miss during our away meets?" I laugh and try to look disappointed. "Ughh fine, we'll do it the boring Emily Fields way then, but don't come running to me when you change your mind about this… it was a onetime deal." She laughs and drops my hands so she can push me back until my legs hit the side of the bed. "Okay, let's try this again. So just take a seat and try not to be a jerk." I laugh as I drop down and look up at her, her hands haven't left my shoulders and I know I'll miss the contact the minute she starts her presentation over again. "Does throwing fruit at you count as me being a jerk or an attentive audience member?" I tease. She rolls her eyes and pushes my head back; I laugh and grab her hand, pulling her back until she's facing me again. "Just remember what I told you." I try to keep the adoration out of my voice and Emily just bites her lip as she nods and slips from my grasp.

By the fifth time she goes through it, Emily has stopped reading the slides and fidgeting like a second grader with a bladder issue. She's calm as she walks me through the whole thing and when she reaches the last slide and thanks the audience for their attention I start clapping and wolf whistling. She blushes and runs to me, covering my lips with her hands as she tries to shush me. "Stop being so loud, its way past midnight and I don't want to get in trouble with my RA." I laugh. "So?" She asks me anxiously. "You did great Em." I shrug my shoulders and she smiles. "Just great? Maybe your tips were bad then…" She teases, pretending that she doesn't know how much she improved. "Yeah… just okay… I mean, I guess a little part of me is still hoping you bomb so that I can beat up your teacher just for fun." She laughs and shakes her head at me. "You're so terrible. This is why I can't take you anywhere." I chuckle at this. "You're going to kill it. So stop worrying." She's biting her lip as she nods. "And if you get nervous tomorrow, you can always pretend that it's just us. In here. Talking. That there's nobody else." Emily smiles at that. "You'll be there, right?" She asks even though she doesn't need to. I'm always there and she knows this. "Of course." I whisper.

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**Author's Note:** Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I'm so glad people are liking this Paily AU :)


	8. Drive

"I'm sorry Agent, my hands are tied. We don't own them, we rent them from a company that provides them on the day of the athletic event… unless…" The dean stays quiet while leaning forward, resting his chin on his hands. Waiting for me to fill in the blank, to suggest that the government provide the bus and the driver until the end of the swim season as a way to keep Emily safe. I clench my jaw and stare at him. This is bullshit. I know that he dicked me around just so he could put me in this position. I've been calling him and getting the run around until today. I hate it when people test me this way because of my youth. I want to jump over the table and punch the smugness right off of his fat fucking face. But I can't. I have to play the fucking game. So I just nod and narrow my eyes before sighing. I want to sound disappointed when I speak my next words to him. "Well then, that is unfortunate. We will have to provide transportation then…" I stop, watching his face light up as he leans back. He thinks he will save the university money, not have to put it in the books and pocket the difference. I hate people like him. "…but just for Miss Fields." His face falls; this isn't going according to plan. "The only thing that concerns us is her safety. Thank you for your cooperation." I nod, stand up and button up my jacket, not even waiting for him to dismiss me as I head for the door. The back of his chair hits the wall so hard that it echoes loudly in the room. "But what about the other girls? What should they do in case there's an emergency? What will we do in case they're in danger because they're trying to get to Miss Fields?" He says, fear evident in his voice as he tries to stop me. I turn around and stare at him as if he asked the stupidest question in the world and he gulps. "I only have one client: Emily Fields. If that scenario were to present itself, I really wouldn't care." I shrug my shoulders and his face turns pale; the endless worst-case scenarios that I had previously discussed with him flood his mind, along with the threats of very litigious parents blaming him and the university for their children being harmed, or worse, killed. "But… if I may make a friendly suggestion…" I start, smiling while trying to sound helpful. He nods, looking relieved that I am willing to come to his aid. "I would begin drafting my resignation letter tonight. Just in case these unfortunate emergency situations were to occur… you can never be too prepared. Right?" He looks sick at the possibility. I'm glad he seems to understand that testing my patience for the past couple of weeks isn't without consequences. But just in case he wants to have another pointless power play, I drive the point home. "Ohh and make sure to mention how cooperative you were with us, I'm sure they won't even check my daily reports over this when the trial comes up." I smile at him and walk out, closing the door behind me.

I exit the second set of doors and turn left, heading back to the locker room from Coach Fulton's office. She's standing in front of the girls, finishing up her discussion with the team regarding tomorrow's line-up and strategy for beating Connecticut in their first meet this year. "All right team, tomorrow you must be here at 7am. We're spending all morning in the pool and then loading up onto the bus so we can check into our hotel early enough to give you guys a chance to rest. We want to be ready for tomorrow's meet against UConn. It's the season opener and we don't want to drop it like we did last year. So make sure that you're ready to swim and ready to win!" The girls break out into cheers and applauses at this. I stay where I am because I'm still seething with rage over the dean not being more cooperative about this whole bus situation and I don't want my bad mood to rub off on Emily. She's gathering her things and talking excitedly with Taylor and Shelby about how this season is going to be their best one yet. Some underclassmen join in on the conversation and pretty soon the whole team starts saying how tomorrow they're going to give it their all so they can start strong and keep the momentum going until the end of the season.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

As Emily stands around with her teammates I'm leaning against the car, watching her. I know that she's going to be upset over this but I did the best I could. I went out of my way to get her this one thing because I know it's her last year here and she didn't sign up for me disrupting her life when her dad ran for president this election. I sigh and rub my face with my hands; recalling how I talked to someone in headquarters in order to ask them about either sending some temporary agents to clear the bus or sending one of our own and they told me that they couldn't do either one because Wayne Fields is merely a candidate. Therefore the protection extended to his family wasn't quite presidential, they don't have the budget to indulge my whims this way, and I had to make do with what I had. I thanked them and said that I just wanted to double check and hung up. Even though I expected the brush off they gave me it still stung because all I could think about was Emily's face falling over knowing that she wouldn't be able to ride the bus with her friends.

Even though I had gone above and beyond my job description by contacting headquarters in the first place, I tried a different approach because I didn't feel like I was trying hard enough for Emily. It was unnecessary because the answer I got from headquarters should have been final but it wasn't sufficient. So I applied some pressure on the dean, trying to get him to provide the bus a day before our scheduled departure so I could go ahead and clear it by myself. But I couldn't get him to budge. Even yesterday when he seemed to be accommodating me by holding our meeting in Coach Fulton's office, he wanted to show me that he was still in control and that he would say no unless to this simple favor unless he could have me in his back pocket… nothing like having a special agent owe you something…

"All right girls, load up." Coach Fulton instructs as the bus parks behind my car with a hiss. The doors open and Emily waves me over while pointing to the bus. I push myself forward and head on over towards her. She looks confused and says something to her friends before jogging to where I am, meeting me before I get to her. "What are you doing?" She asks me, laughing before she reaches for my hand to turn me around towards the car. "Come on, we need to get our bags before all the good seats are taken." She tells me while looking over her shoulder at me. "Emily." I say her name just as I stop and pull at her hand. "What's wrong?" She asks, noticing that I don't share her enthusiasm. "I… we're not going with your team. We're taking the car and driving behind them." I try to sound calm and factual instead of sad about it. Emily shakes her head and furrows her eyebrows, confused for a moment. Trying to process what I just told her. She pulls her hand away from mine and crosses her arms over her chest. "What? Why not?" Anger tinges her voice and I draw my hand back to my side. "Emily." I try to swallow the rejection I feel. "It's my—" She interrupts, finishing the sentence for me. "job to keep me safe. I know. We all know. What I don't know is why we can't just ride the bus with all my friends instead of driving behind them. It's not like we're going to two different places!" She complains, watching as her teammates get on the bus she can't go on.

"I'm sorry Em. I'm just one person and I can't secure this bus within a timeframe that would allow us to get to our destination on time. I kn—" Emily cuts me off; she doesn't want to hear anything I have to say. "It's just a bus. I've done this a thousand times before. I don't know why we can't just get on it together." She whines and I sigh because this conversation is not going the way I planned it. I guess I just thought that if I told her that I wanted to keep her safe, she would magically understand. But she doesn't because she wants to be with her friends and in this moment I'm not an agent whose job above all else is her wellbeing, I'm Paige McCullers, the girl that is making her senior year memorable by messing it up with my constant disruptions to her life. Emily opens her mouth to say something else, but before she can continue to direct her anger towards me, Coach Fulton shouts at me. "Agent McCullers, we're all loaded up, you already have our route so we'll see you at the first pit stop." I turn around to wave at her. "Thank you Coach Fulton, we'll see you there. If you need anything or there's a change of plans, please let me know." She nods and climbs up onto the bus.

I turn around to face Emily again but all I see is her back as she walks towards the car. When she gets in, she slams the door shut and crosses her arms over her chest. I sigh. This is going to be a long fucking drive. I walk over, open the driver's door and get in. She doesn't say anything so I just put on my seatbelt and turn the car on. "Do you… umm… do you want to pick the music?" It's a pathetic peace offering but it's all I can really think of at the moment. She glares at me and I smile at her, holding my ipod up in her line of sight. She narrows her eyes, asking me what do you fucking think? with them. I nod. "So that's a no then." I say, feeling stupid for stating the obvious. "Hey, listen, Em…" I start saying before she interrupts me again. "You know what I don't get? Why you would have the route if you just found out about this." I open my mouth, willing for the right words to come out of my lips but she cuts me off before I can even start. "And then I realized that you knew I wouldn't be able to go on the bus with all my friends. And that hurts… because it's the last time I'll ever be able to do that… and you know what? Now that I think about it, that's not even the worst part. The worst part is that you knew for god knows how long and yet you still chose to wait until the last minute to spring this on me and it makes me feel so stupid for thinking that we were friends or whatever." Her tone is calm, compared to when we talked outside but her voice is like steel and it cuts right through me, along with her words. I try to swallow but my throat is dry and suddenly I'm glad that she can't see my eyes. That I'm wearing my sunglasses and all she can see is her own reflection because I can feel my eyes water and I don't want her to know how much I tried. How much it hurts me to hear her say these things, even though I don't owe her an explanation. I'm doing my job. I'm keeping her safe. And yet… as I watch her turn over to her side, making it feel like the space between us is much larger than it is… I feel like I'm failing at the one thing I was hired to do even though I'm not the one that's meant to make her happy, I'm just supposed to be her protector. I sigh and look up at the rearview mirror watching as the bus pulls out from where it was parked. Emily puts on her headphones and stares outside the passenger window. I don't even bother turning the radio on. It seems pointless to listen to music when this silence between us is louder than anything I could possibly listen to. Instead I just turn on the car and drive.

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**Author's Note:** Thanks for all the love regarding this fic :D it makes me happy to know how much you enjoy it.

Also if you want some more Paily stuff that I'm too lazy to post on here, read them on my tumblr: overkill-max. The link is also on my bio.


	9. Hotel

After almost two hours of driving in silence I start biting the inside of my cheek, thinking. I already failed to convince myself that I don't care whether she talks to me again or not because I can't just be indifferent to her, so I have to devise a plan to get her to talk to me again without it seeming like that was my intention all along… I grab my ipod and connect it to the car's stereo. I know she's listening to her own music, but it's not loud enough to block out everything around her. I push play without taking my eyes off the road, hoping that it's still on the last playlist I was listening to this morning, from my run in the gym that overlooks the pool area where Emily and her teammates practiced all morning. "Call Me Maybe" starts blasting through the speakers and Emily angrily lets out a little burst of air from her nose, when I glance over she quickly turns towards the window again, she's angling her body away from me, trying to put as much space between us as possible. I pretend not to notice and turn the volume up just a little more while I start shaking my head, waiting for the chorus because it's my favorite bit. "Hey, I just met you… and this is crazy but here's my nu—" Emily turns the volume down on the stereo while glaring at me, interrupting my singing. "Can you please turn your terrible music down? Some of us are trying to listen to real music. Thanks." She says and I have to bite my tongue to keep myself from smiling. She took off her headphones. Progress. I turn the volume back up again. "No, it's my car, my rules. And this isn't terrible; this is the song of the summer for a reason!" I protest. I really do like this song. "It's not even that good. And it's overplayed anyway." She answers, uncrossing her arms and turning the volume down again.

"Hey, the chorus is the best part!" I protest, trying to regain control of the dial and she just bats my hands away while laughing at me. "That's because it's the only part you know." I open my mouth to deny it but close it again because it's true. Dammit. "See. I knew it!" She says while laughing victoriously and punching me lightly on the arm. I smile. "Whatever. This song is still amazing." This makes her laugh louder. "No it's not." She tells me, pretending that she doesn't occasionally borrow my computer to "use your boring grown up work software for like a minute" and when she gives it back, there is a disproportionate amount of plays in my embarrassingly titled 'summer jamz' playlist, where this song is. "Mock my music taste all you want." She smiles. "Thanks. I will." Emily says as if I just conceded victory over this issue. "…but just remember that the Olympic swim team even made a video lip-synching this amazing summer song." The way her face contorts from triumphant to annoyed is enough to show me that she's long forgotten that she's supposed to act like she's still upset with me. "Low blow Agent McCullers… low blow." I laugh at this because now she's completely over the whole thing. It's in her tone of voice… and the way she says my name as she lightly shoves my shoulder against my body. "What? It's not like I forced them to make that video!" She looks at me in disbelief. "How do I know that? Maybe you did…" I laugh at her ridiculous argument. "Months before we were to have this argument? How committed do you think I am to convincing you that this is an amazing song?" Emily laughs so hard at this that she has to lean forward in order to catch her breath. I'm so enraptured by her that I don't even notice that the song has been over for several minutes. When she looks back up, smiling at me I smile back. "You know, you're very sneaky." She scrunches her face, not understanding what I'm talking about. "You made me miss my song… you know what this means, right?" She rolls her eyes at me as I put the song back on.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

When we start slowing down because we've reached our pit stop, Emily is still trying to wrestle the device from my hand because the song has been on repeat for the past half hour or so. "Please, just play another song… or let me pick the music." I laugh as I pull up to the gas station, right behind the bus. "First of all you can't pick the music because you're not driving and second of all you listen to super depressing songs. Every time I hear one of your playlists I wonder if I am in fact dead from being sad by association." Emily laughs at my description of her musical tastes. Just as she's about to chime in with a retort I give her an ultimatum as I put the car on park. "So either you admit that this is an amazing song or you can just listen to me duet with Miss Carly Rae for the two and half hours left of the drive." Her mouth drops open and I smirk at her, trying not to feel the heat from where her hands are holding my wrist and closed fist. Trying to pretend that the only reason I wanted to keep the same song on repeat was because I wanted to annoy her instead of just to have her keep touching me. She opens her mouth to say something and I lean in closer, wanting to hear her say that this is the best song of the decade, not because I share that opinion but I like being petty and winning. Emily looks down at my hand that's no longer holding on so tightly at the ipod and then back at me again while she bites her lip. "I…" She starts just as her teammates gather around the car and start loudly banging on it, making Emily blush and drop my hand as if it burned her. "Come on Emily! We only have like 15 minutes to use the bathroom and buy crap." She opens the door and I turn the car off, Emily glances over her shoulder at me and looks apologetic, whispering a small "sorry," before she closes the door behind her. I wonder what for. She laughs along with her friends and I get out of the car, following them into the convenience store.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

After we check in we head back to the car to get our stuff. I grab Emily's duffle bag, my suitcase and my duffle bag with the equipment I'll need for tonight. Emily is about to protest when I tell her that "Hey, I got off easy; you now have to find out where the hell our room is." She laughs and takes a small bow before leading us in the wrong direction. Something we only find out after going in circles for a couple of minutes. "Emily, I think we already passed that fire extinguisher three times now." She squints at our room key and tries looking for any clues as to how the numbers are set up in this place. "No… I think this is right. I mean the rest of the team headed this way, so we should be close, right?" I shrug at her. This hotel doesn't even deserve its half-star or whatever the fuck it's rated. It's more confusing to navigate than the goddamn Bermuda triangle. "Just give me another minute." She begs me as she pulls out her cellphone and calls one of the girls.

We find our way to our room and I tell Emily to let me perform a sweep before she settles in. "What's a sweep?" She asks. "Well…" I say as I start pulling my equipment out of the bag and testing it to make sure it's working properly. "A bug sweep is a counter surveillance measure where we try to locate electronic eavesdropping devices such as hidden cameras, tapped phones, a miniature transmitter… even a cellphone that's activated remotely from another location." I tell her as I begin my sweep with the RF probe. Emily laughs in disbelief. "So have you guys ever actually found anything?" I shake my head. "Yeah, my dad told me that some of his friends on the advance team were prepping a hotel room once and they found a bug in the phone." I laugh, remembering the end of the story. "Turns out that Elton John had previously stayed in that same room and the staff bugged it so they could listen in on his calls." Emily looks at me like she doesn't know whether to find it funny or not. "I umm… I guess it's funnier if you're an agent…" I say lamely as I finish the first sweep. She nods and raises her eyebrows at this. "Yeah. I guess." Emily says as she bites her lip and scratches her arm. "So, Paige I umm…" She starts saying before there's a knock at the door. I hold my hand up to stop her from automatically opening it. I make my way over and check the peephole before rolling my eyes. It's only Shelby. I put my gun away because I automatically just respond to things sometimes and I didn't even notice when it made its way to my hands. Probably the second her friend knocked. I move away from the door and nod at Emily, giving her the ok to open the door. I grab another scanner and start looking for stashed electronics.

"Hey girl, where's your prison guard?" Shelby jokes and Emily laughs uneasily. "Umm… she's right here, doing a sweep?" She asks her friend instead of telling her. Shelby peeks in as I'm holding the scanner up to a mirror. She waves at me and I just raise my head in acknowledgment. I really hate her teammates and their fucking timing sometimes because now I'm left wondering what Emily wanted to tell me. "Woah, it's like super James Bond stuff going down here, right?" I hear Shelby say in amazement. Emily agrees with her. "Yup. So… what's up? Are the girls going to have a sleepover or something?" She finishes excited at the possibility of being able to actually spend time with her teammates before they have to go to bed. Shelby answers something in a whisper, prompting them to have a short conversation in hushed tones as I continue going over the room, trying to look as if I'm not trying to listen in on their conversation. "Whatever. I'll see you guys later." Emily says coldly as she slams the door shut with a swift shove. I look over at her and before I can ask what's wrong she shakes her head and wipes at her eyes. "Nothing. Just… the girls are sneaking off downtown to carbo-load and they all agreed that I was going to stay behind anyway so I should be the one on the lookout for Coach Fulton so they don't get caught." She sighs. "I just wish people would stop deciding what I'm going to do with my own life sometimes." I bite my lip and look down at the floor because I don't really know what to say to make her feel better when she pretty much got mad at me for the same reason hours before. "We could order room service and watch one of those scary movies you like…" I suggest, talking to my feet. Emily laughs. "I could do with some pasta…" I can feel my face break out into a smile as I look up at her. Emily is still wiping at her eyes with her hands. "Sure." I tell her as she heads into the bathroom and I grab the phone that's in between the twin beds.

Emily is still in the bathroom when room service knocks. "Leave the cart where it is and place your hands behind your head." I instruct to the confused looking hotel employee. I open the door when he complies and quickly pat him down before searching the cart and finally signing off on the food. "Thanks. Just leave it on the table." I ask him and then lock the door behind him when he finishes. I loosen my tie and start taking off my suit. By the time Emily comes out of the bathroom I'm in my pajamas, flipping through the channels, laying on top of the sheets, with all four pillows from both beds propping me up. "Hey there. I thought you'd gotten lost in there. I was seconds away from sending in a rescue team." She laughs and shakes her head. Her eyes are red and swollen but I pretend I don't notice that she's been crying. "You feeling hungry?" She sighs. "Not really." Emily sits down at the table anyway because she can't skip a meal if she wants to perform well tomorrow. We eat in silence, the glare of the muted television flashing different colors on the wall, lighting up the room with occasional bursts of color. After we're done eating I put the empty plates outside the room, brush my teeth and settle down on the bed again while Emily goes into the bathroom. The volume is low enough where I can hear her brushing her teeth and I just bite the inside of my cheek again, worried about her. I continue flipping through the channels until I decide to settle on a black and white monster movie because it seems like the kind of thing she would like. She comes back into the room and sits down next to me, laying her head on my shoulder. "What are we watching?" I shrug. "I don't know, but there's werewolf in it."


	10. Nightmares

I'm walking around the forest with sweat running down my body. My clothes are drenched and sticking to me. I raise a hand up and wipe away at my forehead. I feel so overwhelmingly tired and thirsty that I forgot what I'm doing here. I don't know if I'm looking for something or if I should be doing something. I can't even remember when I started wandering around this place or how I got here. I look up at the sun but the trees block my view and it only serves to further disorient me. I was not built for the outdoors. I put my hands over my eyes and take another tired step forward. My feet are like lead and I lose my footing, tripping over myself. I fall face first, pine needles and dirt stick to my skin and some rock is digging into my side. I should just give up. I'm so sleepy that all I can really think about is laying my head down and waking up next week. I don't care if I stay lost in these stupid woods forever. I let my head fall down onto the dirt and close my eyes but the rock is too sharp to let me fall asleep. I grab it and try to toss it away from me, but it's stuck to the ground. I groggily open my eyes as I tug harder at it, trying to dislodge it from the ground. It's suddenly slippery in my fingers and my hand comes up empty. I wipe away at my forehead again and when I look at my hand it's filled with blood. I jump up and look down at the rock. Wondering what the hell is going on.

The rock has blood all around it, fresh blood. It doesn't make any sense. I touch it again and more blood comes off, as if the rock were the one bleeding. I take a tired breath, the air burns my lungs because now I can taste the way everything around me has a coppery taste. That means that whatever made this is either injured or a predator and this is a fresh kill. I wipe the blood off my hands on my pants and as I'm looking at them I hear it, a low growl that tells me that I should have run while I still had the energy. I look up and see a wolf. Its fangs are bared and its head is down. I don't know much about nature but I understand danger. I know the feeling in the pit of your stomach that tells you you're fucked. It's watching me, waiting for the right moment to strike. I slide my hand across my torso, trying to keep any sudden movements to a minimum. I grab at empty space where my gun should be. It's stupid but the only thing that comes to my mind isn't that I'm about to die but that the wolf's fur is really shiny, how black it is. I take a tentative step backwards and end up falling on my ass. Fuck. A hand grips my thigh and I look down, what I thought was a rock is someone's hand, trying to pull me under. "Keep her still I need to see if we have to amputate that leg." I hear from above me. I look around and the wolf is closing in as more hands come from the ground to hold me in place. I thrash about, not ready to become easy prey and hear voices above me again. "Can anyone explain why she's not completely under?" More hands grab at my clothes and I punch against empty air, trying to fight them off. "I'm sorry Dr. Johnson but she knocked out Dr. Ortega and he's the only anesthesiologist in the county." The hands keep grabbing onto me and the wolf is getting closer and I don't know how to deal with everything at once.

"Agent McCullers… Paige. Paige!" Emily shakes me awake as she continues to say my name. "Huh? What's wrong?" I ask her automatically. Her presence makes the sleep and confusion leave my body as adrenaline starts pumping. I become more alert as she yawns. "We fell asleep while watching the movie… and although you've very warm and super comfortable you became less comfortable as you began to move around a lot…" I nod and relax. "Thanks for waking me up. I was having a nightmare." I say as I touch my legs. I can't feel the scars beneath the fabric and I frown. It's stupid but this ritual of knowing that they're real, of feeling them against my fingertips after every nightmare helps to ground me and with Emily in the room I'm afraid of touching them because I don't want to draw attention to them. "Ummm…" I say, filling up the silence between us because I don't know what to tell her. I look at my cellphone. 3:45 AM. Same as always. "You should go back to sleep Em, you have your meet tomorrow… today." I tell her as I get up and walk to the bathroom, being careful to close the door as quietly as possible.

I turn the water on and splash my face. Trying to wash away the feeling of hands holding me down, of the voices and the hallucinations… of being trapped in the past again. I sigh as I dry my face and look up at the mirror, bracing myself for what I'm about to look at. I pull my pants down until they're no longer hiding the scars and I look at the reflection as I touch them. It's funny how now that they're a part of me I can't remember what my skin looked like without them. I burned most of the pictures of me in bathing suits and shorts when I was going to pull the trigger because I hated the constant reminder that I wasn't always like this. But now, it's different. The surviving pictures are safely tucked away under my bed show me what I looked like before my recovery, before the weight of the scars became permanent upon my skin. But I haven't been able to look at them since that night because I still can't reconcile that girl with the one that stares back at me every single day. I just can't understand how we're the same person when I feel so far removed from her, as if she were a stranger. I can't even remember what it's like to go to bed without dreading the moment I fall asleep because I'm afraid of what I'll find there. So it's no wonder that I can't remember feeling any different before.

A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts and I quickly pull my pants up, ashamed of being seen, even when there's a locked door between us. I open the door, and Emily is standing there looking worried, it makes me feel like a fraud. Like I don't belong on her detail because I should be protecting her, not the other way around. I don't know what to say so I just stand close to her, letting her presence calm me down. She bites her lower lip and stares down at our bare feet and I paradoxically feel more and less vulnerable around her at the same time. My body moves closer to hers and I remind myself to breathe because I feel like I always stop breathing when we stand near each other. "Do you need to use the bathroom?" I ask her, trying to stop my brain from being taken over by fantasies of kissing Emily and her kissing me back. Emily shakes her head to indicate that she's not waiting for the bathroom to be free. "I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay." I smile and nod. "Yeah. I'm fine. But I don't think I'll be watching any more scary movies with you before bed." She laughs. "You're such a big baby. The movie wasn't scary at all… plus you fell asleep within the first ten minutes, so you missed all the good parts anyway." She teases me as she yawns into her palm. I laugh and we stand in the dark for a couple of seconds before she turns around and I follow her back to where the beds are. I pull down the covers on my bed and Emily does the same with hers. I'm trying not to look up at her because I can feel her watching me. I want her to just say it, whatever she's thinking, she should just say it. I grab the two pillows I took earlier and place them on top of the sheets. "You need to go back to sleep." I remind her. Emily nods but doesn't move. I rub my face with my hands and get under the covers of my bed. Even though I know I won't be able to fall back asleep, I don't want to disrupt Emily because she needs to rest as much as possible before their meet today. I move to my side and pretend to be relaxing back into sleep.

"Paige?" Emily whispers. "Yeah?" I ask her, staring at the wall, facing away from her. "Do you want to tell me about your nightmare? My mom says if share it with someone, then you won't dream about it again." I chuckle. "Naaa, I'd rather dream about it again than have you make fun of me for having nightmares about cheesy movies." She laughs softly. "Well if you change your mind. I'll be right here." Heat spreads across my face as I blush. "Thanks." I tell her as I stare at the wall in the dark and wait. I don't know how long I stay still; waiting for her breathing to even out; when she falls back asleep I sit up on the bed. I look over at Emily, to make sure she's not awake and I slip out from under the sheets.

I grab the first thing that's on her pile of school books she brought with her and head towards the bathroom. I open the door, turn the light on and sit on the little hallway so that I can read without disturbing Emily. I like that even though I won't be able to sleep I don't have to feel alone tonight because there's someone in the room with me. It makes me feel a little better, even if she's not awake, to just have Emily here.

I'm so engrossed in the book that I forget all about where I am until a sleepy Emily calls out to me. "Paige?" I yawn as I stick my finger in the pages so I won't lose my place and let my head drop against the wall behind me. I need coffee. "Paige?" Emily says just a little bit louder and I get up and walk to the edge of her bed. "What is it Em? Everything okay?" She nods and I smile, the light is peeking through the corners of the blinds and she looks absolutely stunning in this moment, waking up and without make up. "Yeah, sorry… I was just worried when I didn't hear you snoring next to me." I laugh as I put my hand down on her foot, the covers between us. "Whatever. I don't snore…" She scratches her nose and laughs before frowning. "No, you don't." She says, sounding more serious than before. "I just wanted to make sure you were still here… sorry." She says, biting her lip as she pulls herself to a sitting position, making her foot slide out of my grasp. "Don't worry. I… I'm always going to be here… I was just reading." I tell her as I show her the book and she nods. She grabs her cellphone and frowns. They're supposed to sleep in today but she doesn't look like she wants to go back to bed. "Do you want to see if this place has one of those free breakfast bars or judging by the décor in this place, a half-eaten doughnut we can steal from the lobby?" I ask her Emily laughs and shakes her head at me. "You're so terrible without your morning coffee you know that?" I shrug at her because I don't really have an answer to that.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the long wait but I was visiting my sister and that meant that I had no time to sit down and write. But I'm back now and I hope you enjoy this chapter and that everyone that's in the states had an amazing thanksgiving break.


	11. First Meet

I'm fixing my tie when Emily comes out of the bathroom; she takes one look at me and frowns. "You can't wear that." My hands stop and I look around the room, almost expecting her to be talking to someone else. "No?" I ask her as I turn to face her again, confused as to what's wrong with my suit. "No." I frown. "Then what will I wear?" I didn't really pack anything else but this. "You have to wear the sweater I gave you for luck." I laugh and when Emily frowns I stare at her. "You're serious?" I ask her and she crosses her arms over her chest. "I know that we look pretty strange to you, whenever we go through our rituals before each practice but swimmers are really superstitious. All the things we do around the locker room or even the pool might seem silly to you because you're not an athlete but we do them for a reason. Because they work." I cough into my hand to stop myself from saying something stupid. "I know you don't believe me but every practice you've worn the sweater to, I've actually shaved like two seconds off my average times. So please, you can make fun of me all you want but wear it at least for this meet because we really need all the luck we can get today. Everyone is on edge because the first meet sets the mood for the rest of the season and I just want a great season because this is the last one I'll have with my team." I nod at her, easily giving in. I start to take off my blazer but then realize that I didn't actually bring the sweater with me. Emily can sense my hesitation and she smiles before going to her gym bag, dumping some of her things on the bed before finally pulling out the sweater. "Wait did you already know I would say yes?" I ask her as I take the sweater from her hands. "No. But I hoped you would because this will totally give us the edge we need to win." She smiles at me as I pull the sweater over my head I smile and take a deep breath. It smells like her. It's probably silly but that makes my heart beat just a little bit faster before it slows down again. The fact that I can smell her all over me.

Emily gives me a thumbs up with both of her hands and I roll my eyes, pretending that it's a chore to wear the sweater. She swats at my shoulder. "Hey, no negativity today. We have a meet to win." I shrug. "Yeah, yeah. Come on and hurry up, I want my coffee." She laughs as she carelessly stuffs her things back into her bag. When she's done I go around the room to make sure that we're not forgetting anything and then we head on over to the car to put everything in the trunk. We walk towards the restaurant area and Coach Fulton is already there, she must have gotten up a bit earlier than us because she's halfway through her crossword puzzle on the paper and drinking her coffee with an empty plate sitting in front of her. Emily automatically goes towards her table and asks her coach if she doesn't mind if we join her. Coach Fulton looks up, surprised to be interrupted by one of her swimmers because she expected them all to enjoy their morning rest to the fullest. After we say good morning they both begin to talk about today's meet and my phone rings. It's the Mansfield Chief of Police. I excuse myself from the table as I answer him, letting him know that we're having breakfast at the hotel. He confirms the name of it from the itinerary I sent him and tells me that he's just parking his car so he'll see me in a minute or two. I hang up and sit down, waiting for his arrival.

True to his word in a minute he's walking through the door. He's a tall man but years of being a chief have made him carry around a bit of extra weight. Even with the extra pounds and the fact that he looks closer to retirement than a new chief coming in, the way he carries himself tells me he's a cop through and through. He moves with fluid motions. His arm motions are wide and he walks with confidence. He walks towards our table, seeing as it's the only one that's occupied. He takes the three of us in and angles himself directly in front of Coach Fulton. "Agent McCullers, I'm Chief of Police Arthur O'Neill, at your service. We spoke earlier today." Coach Fulton looks confused and Emily's shoulders are shaking with laughter. She's hiding her mouth with one of her hands but I still catch it. I stand up and shake his hand. "I'm Secret Service Agent McCullers. That's Coach Fulton and Emily Fields, my protectee." He blushes, clearly embarrassed because he was expecting someone older, someone to look like they could take down a perp or at least take a bullet in the chest. Not someone like me. I should be used to this but it still hurts my pride when it happens. Especially in front of Emily. It's silly but that makes it sting a little bit more than usual. But I guess you can't always win against every stereotype.

"Please, let's talk in private while they enjoy their breakfast. There are some things I'd like to go over with you before show time." I extend my hand and we make our way over to a corner table that is facing not just Emily's table but it allows us to see the entrance and kitchen doors. He sits down across from me and laughs. "Well gee, sorry about the mix up missy. I was expecting someone to look like they would in the movies you know? I've never seen a Secret Service agent before and you look like you could be one of my daughter's friends. She's about your age and goes to UConn. So the sweater made me thing you were another student too." I look down at the sweater and blush, both in anger and embarrassment. I want to punch this asshole right into retirement. I'm about to say something snarky about his age when I see Emily look over at us and then back to the coach again. I clench my fists and grit my teeth, Marco's words echoing in my head about being a bit of a hot head and getting into a lot of trouble for it. And as much as I want to salvage my pride it won't do me any good right now so I force myself to smile at him. "I get that all the time." He laughs and shakes his head. "Well I still want to apologize." I nod at him and he visibly relaxes. "All right then, let's get this out of the way so we can get your girls into your competition then." He pulls out printouts of the pool area and locker rooms, spreading them down on the table in front of us. "Well I did just what you outlined in your instructions. I got all my officers to sweep every inch of that place. Supervised it myself. We did the pool area as shown here, the pool maintenance room and the locker rooms." I nod along to what he shows me. "We couldn't get the metal detector to be put in place but it's a small community, not many people carry guns. We'll just wand people down and I've already put two of my officers in there with you as backup." As he finishes speaking his radio crackles to life, effectively ending our meeting. He starts talking into it and then stands up. I stand up with him and after he finishes gathering all his papers I extend my hand to him. "Thank you for going out of your way to do this. We really appreciate it when local authorities such as yourself divert your resources in order to assist us in these kinds of assignments." He firmly shakes my hand and smiles before conspiratorially leaning in. "Honestly it's no problem… especially because most of my guys plan on voting for Fields." He gives me a thumbs up as he excuses himself and leaves.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

The bleachers are not even 1/3 full and while this turnout might be disappointing for the swimmers, I'm relieved that there isn't that much of a crowd. Even though the security isn't quite presidential, it's still high stakes and I'm nervous because this is my first time actually coordinating this kind of operation by myself. At least when I was on security detail with Mrs. Fields I had Marco to lean on when it came to shit like this. Now it's my ass on the line. And as exciting as it is to do this in the real world, outside of the simulations, it's also scary as fuck because I don't want to fuck everything up. Not when I have so many eyes on me. Not when I'm supposed to be the big shot from Washington that's telling the local cops how to help me pull this off. The one that even their chief has to defer to when, like he said, I'm his daughter's age.

The radio Chief O'Neill loaned me that's on their frequency is firmly placed on my belt. I might be able to conceal my weapon but I can't cover this up. I just hang a stopwatch around my neck and given my youth most spectators brush me off as some kind of assistant. They don't really think much of me and I keep walking around the perimeter of the pool area, scanning the crowd since O'Neill's officers are manning the entrances. I see nothing out of the ordinary and yet I still can't let my guard down.

Both teams enter the pool area and the crowd erupts in cheers. I keep my focus trained on the audience and occasionally let my eyes take Emily in. She's wearing her bulky warm up jacket, even though the pool area is pretty warm. It's part of her pre-swim good luck ritual. She told me that she has to wear her warm up jacket, halfway zipped and listen to the 1812 Overture, but just the part that gets good, because it was what always got her friend Spencer pumped up before a big exam in high school. And she figures if her friend always aced her exams, it could be extended to her athletic endeavors instead of just being exclusively applicable to academics. She looks in my direction and I meet her eyes. She smiles at me but it doesn't reach her eyes because she's worried. I don't blame her. The rest of the team came in reeking of alcohol and some even threw up before they even got a chance to use the pool for warm ups. I guess they didn't just carbo-load after all.

Emily is nodding her head along to the music that's blaring through her headphones and then the coach taps her, signaling her to get ready. Emily takes her headphones out, puts them in her jacket pocket, and lets the jacket drop down next to the wall. She stands up on the platform and then she dives over her teammate and into the water. I scan the crowd again and look at all the exits, double checking that everything is still fine. When I look back at the pool Emily is already pulling herself out of the water. I stop and clap along with the rest of the spectators. Blown away by how fast she swam from one end to another and then back again. She really was made for the water.

The rest of the events go by just as quickly. I don't really understand swimming that well, so when they announce the scores 161-139 I'm confused as to what that means, but judging from the look on some of the girls faces on Emily's team, it's probably bad. I don't know why, Emily won two events. She wasn't even the only one from her team that won. Two of her teammates also won first place but I guess that's not all there is to this swimming thing. I keep scanning the crowd with a bit more apprehension because it hasn't dwindled and even though it was small to start with they are now moving towards the pool area. It's understandable, they're mostly parents, friends or significant others to the local girls and they just want to congratulate them on their overall win. After a couple of minutes both teams finish gathering their stuff up and are lining up to shake hands with their opponents. I look at Emily and she's genuinely happy when she shakes the UConn girl's hands. They're halfway through when Shelby holds her hands up to her mouth and tries to run towards the lockers. The floor is slippery and instead of making it, halfway through she throws up all over the floor and I cringe along with the rest of the people in the natatorium. The local paramedic that's on standby is quickly moving towards her but Coach Fulton waves them off and I radio in to the local cops not to worry about the incident.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

When we make our way back into the locker room the air has changed around them. It goes from the nervous pre-meet energy to this heavy thing that just makes me feel tired. The girls are standing around the lockers, shuffling their feet and looking dejected. Instead of rushing about, trying to win dibs on first shower, everyone is downcast. Even Emily. The room is dead silent as Coach Fulton walks in with her arms around her chest. This is the first time I've ever seen all the girls be this subdued. Usually there's whispering or background chatter about what's next. But now there's nothing but the sound of Coach Fulton pacing up and down the length of the room, shaking her head. "I don't know what to say to you girls. I have never been more disappointed in my athletes than I am today." She's not screaming. Coach Fulton is not one to lose her cool. She's not those coaches that bully their athletes into performing better for fear of getting punished or yelled at. She makes her girls work hard because they want to please her, and today she is far from that. Her team doesn't move a muscle and she continues. "Today was supposed to be about taking pride in what you love to do. Not about winning. This is never about winning. Because you can't win all the time. Sports teach us how to win gracefully and how to lose the same way. But today… today was different. Not because we lost but because of the way you disrespected me, the way you disrespected your teammates. Not to mention the fact that you were disrespectful to those girls out there whom you competed against. But most importantly, you disrespected yourselves and that is something you should really be ashamed of because at the end of the day that's who you have to answer to." Some of the girl's eyes are bright red. I don't know if it's because of the chlorine or if what the coach is saying is getting to them.

"We have been practicing for months for this, for some of you it's been years. I've given up my free hours to be in the pool along with you guys, to train you, to coach you, to support you. To give you that focus and preparation needed to win. So you can have the consistency that you needed to swim in there today and do your best." None of the girls look up. Not one girl dares to meet the coach's eyes. "And instead I have to find out today, before our meet, that you blew all of your hard work, my hard work and your teammates' hard work to get drunk last night? Now I'm not against drinking but I am against irresponsible behavior when it affects my team. And I hope that all of you are happy, that last night was worth all of this. I'm very disappointed in you girls because I thought that you understood your responsibilities to this team, to me and to yourselves." She shakes her head and sighs. "I'm not just blaming you; I too have failed as your coach and mentor." A few of the girls try to protest this but with one look they all quickly shut up again and lower their heads. "This is because it is my job to be a model of responsibility, 24-7, year round. This also means owning up to my own shortcomings and failures. I trusted you all to be responsible last night and you weren't. That is on me as well. So starting today you are all on probation." Some freshman girls try to protest this but a few elbows to their sides quickly shuts them up again. "This means that all of us will have to re-learn how to act like responsible adults that we are. Starting this weekend we'll be doing volunteer work and community cleanup. All of us. Because we are all part of a team and when one of us messes up, we all do it. Now everybody hit the showers, but before you do I want you to take a good look at your teammate's eyes and apologize for the way you acted. Especially Miss Fields, who I know for a fact didn't participate in your late night excursions but still has to suffer the consequences of your irresponsible actions."

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**Author's Note:** Here is another chapter and I wanted to thank everyone for being so awesome regarding this fic.


	12. Locker Room

When the door slams behind Coach Fulton, every eye went from the floor to Emily. "Thanks a lot _Emily_." Shelby spits out the last word bitterly. My body tenses. I scan the locker room. She's not in physical danger, so there's no real reason why I should jump in to protect her but it doesn't stop me from wanting to. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stand still and breathe in deeply. I remind myself that we're not supposed to interfere. We're supposed to be invisible. If we do our job right, no one notices us. I want to do my job right. I've wanted to do nothing but this job for years; I would die before fucking up. I remind myself to stay cold and detached but it's hard to feel that way when it's about Emily. When the room is so tense that it becomes a tangible thing that clings to the girls like the smell of chlorine does. I know that this isn't going to end well but I hope that it's not because of something stupid I do.

Shelby steps closer to Emily and I adjust my stance, readying myself to act. "Excuse me? I wasn't the one that got so drunk she threw up all over the pool area." Emily shouts back, letting her stuff fall to the ground. I actually step back, surprised at Emily reacting opposite of how I expected her to. She's usually the voice of reason in locker room conflicts, I guess that everyone has their limits and she's finally reached hers. "Oh right, just like it wasn't you that told coach about us sneaking off last night?" Shelby spits back after taking a couple of seconds to react to Emily's anger. She was probably expecting her to back down as well. To take her anger in stride and go shower instead. Emily laughs sarcastically. "Really? Because coach wouldn't have figured it out by herself when half the team looks like they're hung over and the other half threw up before hitting the pool?" Shelby frowns but she moves closer. Emily is right. I know that and deep down so does the rest of the team, but the truth doesn't seem to have any effect on Shelby. "Please. I know it was you. We all know it was you… you've been gunning for captain since the start of this season and this is your way of eliminating the only competition you had." Emily shakes her head while frowning. "What are you talking about? I'm not gunning for anything." Shelby rolls her eyes and takes another step forward. "Come on it's your last year here. First you're breaking records and then you steal Taylor's spot as anchor, of course you're gunning for captain." Some of the girls start whispering amongst themselves and I wonder what the hell is going on. Emily's confusion quickly turns to rage and she steps forward, cutting the distance between Shelby and her "I already talked to Taylor about this but I'm glad to repeat myself so you can understand me. I'll even say it slowly for you: _If you want to beat me, work harder_. I earned my spot as anchor by working my ass off. Just like you earned your spot on coach's shit list by making an ass out of yourself." Emily doesn't wait for Shelby to react; she grabs her stuff and heads to the showers.

The juvenile part of me wants to laugh at Shelby in order to further humiliate her. I want to say something funny and mean at her expense but I know that I can't. And that I shouldn't. So I just stick to doing my job and follow Emily, standing outside the little hallway where the showers are. The girls in the locker room go from dead silence to progressively louder, but not as loud as they usually are. Standing there with nothing to do makes it seem as if Emily is taking forever to shower. I'm in the middle of stifling a yawn when Shelby stops in her tracks, almost falling over herself when she sees me. I'm guarding the entrance to all the shower stalls, meaning that unless I feel like moving, she's not going to shower, and I'm not feeling particularly kind to her. "Umm… you're in the way." She says quietly. I shrug my shoulders. I can't really tell her to go fuck herself so I just play stupid, pretending not to know what she's talking about. She frowns and looks behind her. When she realizes that none of the other girls are following her lead she turns over to face me again and plays with her towel. "I… umm… I need to take a shower." I nod at her but say nothing choosing to concentrate on a spot right behind her as I count in my head. I really need to keep my cool and Shelby is not helping. Just by being here she makes me angry enough to do something stupid. And unlike Bagel, I doubt she'll be a good sport about taking a punch to the face. I wonder what sort of trouble I'll get in for punching some punk ass kid… could I write it off as a necessarily evil in order to keep Emily safe? I blink slowly because I doubt it. _Fuck_. This really sucks.

Shelby looks back and still her friends are staying in the main part of the locker room. She sighs and is about to walk back when she suddenly smiles and laughs. "Well if it isn't little Emiwy Fwields. What's the matter, afraid of taking care of things by yourself so you have to put your giant lapdog in front of the showers to further inconvenience us?" She laughs mockingly and stares past me. I can feel my nails digging into my palms from trying so hard not to do what comes naturally. Emily steps forward, pushing past me in her sweats and a towel wrapped around her head. I walk past Shelby, trying to ignore her laughter echoing in the shower and all the girls turn around to face Emily and by extension me. I nod at them and some of them begin gathering their things to use the showers. Emily is irately putting her stuff away and when I move in to help her carry her gym bag to the car, she pulls it out of my reach, stopping me. "I'm not a fucking baby. I don't need your help every single second of the day. I can take care of things myself." She informs me angrily and I hold my palms up, telling her I understand. Even when I don't. I back away from her and look around the locker room. The rest of the girls are too busy holding their own conversations to notice me but I still feel stupid. Like I should have known. I bite my lip and look down at the ground, waiting for Emily to finish up so we can get out of here and just drive home. I'm not even excited that she won her races anymore.

Emily coughs and I look up at her. She shifts the weight of her bag but it stays on the same spot on her shoulder. "Ready to go Miss Fields?" She winces at this. "Paige… I…" She starts to say but my radio comes to life, interrupting her. "McCullers here, I didn't catch that can you repeat it? Over." The chief mentions that the rest of the stragglers have left the gym and that the side entrance that leads to where we parked is clear. "Thanks Chief. We'll be on our way. Over." Emily sighs and makes her way to the side entrance. I follow closely behind and soon we're outside. The Chief is waiting near the car. I wave him over and he walks up to us, meeting us halfway. "Chief O'Neill thank you for your cooperation today. This meet wouldn't have been possible without your help or the help of your fine officers." I extend my hand to him and he looks down at it, blushing before taking it and giving it a firm shake. "Thanks Agent McCullers, it was no problem. You kids have a good drive home." I nod and pat his shoulder with my other hand and reach down to hand him his radio. "Thanks Chief, we will. You tell the rest of your officers that I'm sorry I couldn't personally shake their hands but that they did a fine job out there." He lifts his hat and scratches his head, looking back at the building we just came out of. "Thanks. I'll be happy to pass the message along to them. I'm sure they'd appreciate it." I smile at him. "Not as much as I appreciated their help out there. You have a fine force behind you. I'm just grateful I got to be a part of it, even if it was just for a day." He shakes his head before looking back to where his squad car is sitting. "Thanks… I… That means a lot… especially coming from some Washington big shot." I smile at the ground. _Shit_. This is a little embarrassing because I never thought of myself that way. It still feels foreign to me. He pats my shoulder and we nod at each other before he turns to walk away. I wave as he drives off. I should probably send his station some flowers or one of those fruit baskets as a thank you. Yeah, that seems like a good idea.

We make it to the car and I open the trunk for Emily to drop her bag into. I slam it shut and then walk over to open her door. She frowns. "But I always sit in the front." She tells me in a small voice that is about to make my resolve crumble. I don't want her to sit in the back but it's too hard to have her be so close to me and still be angry at me. I did it for two hours before and I don't think I can do it for the whole drive back. I'd rather just not see her because it's too damn hard to sit there and pretend that nothing is wrong when she won't even look at me. I shrug, looking past her, pretending that I'm okay with this… with everything. "Sorry Miss Fields, just trying to follow your wishes." She makes a sound but I'm too busy trying to look everywhere else but her eyes to pay attention to what she wants to say. She sighs and throws her arms up. "Yeah. Thanks." She slides in and I shut the door for her. We should wait for the bus driver to get there but I really think everyone else can go fuck themselves at the moment. I write down a reminder to send the station something to thank them for their help and then text Coach Fulton, telling her that we're heading home right away. I don't wait for an answer before I open the door, start the car and drive off.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

We get to the first stop to refuel and even though I don't mean to, I slam my door. I go through the motions of pumping gas, not really thinking about anything. I'm leaning against the car, watching the numbers go up when I realize how tired I am. I yawn into a closed fist and rub my face with that hand. Fuck. I hope this place has some coffee or at least some energy drinks because I'll need them. I should have slept more but I just couldn't go back there. I also don't know if I can do this… maybe I should just admit defeat and go back to Mrs. Fields' security detail. I'm exhausted and on top of that I just feel like I can't just compartmentalize my feelings the way I think I should. I rub my neck, worrying about how other agents did this. Do they just not develop feelings or opinions when it comes to the person they're supposed to protect? I guess that's the only way you can do it… or at least pretend you don't. Maybe I should do that. Until I can stop all these stupid feelings from taking over I should just pretend that I don't like her. I mean… it's what she wants anyway, right?

Emily shutting the car door behind me startles me and I realize that the numbers in front of me have gone still. I put the pump back and wait for the click of the gas cap, never taking my eyes off of my hands. I want to look anywhere else but her. Her shoes come into my field of vision and I take a deep breath. "Can you please _just_ look at me?" She asks me in a small voice and I shake my head because I know if I do I won't be able to stop. I won't be able to give her what she wants from me when what I want to give her is so different. I wish I could just... "Please Paige… I need you to look at me." Her voice cracks and I look up. She's wiping her cheeks with the sleeves of her sweater but it's no use. Her eyes are puffy and she's still crying. I instinctively reach my hands out to hold her but I stop them halfway through. Reminding myself that this isn't what she wants from me. "I'm getting some coffee. Do you want anything from inside Miss Fields?" Something flashes over her face and then it's gone. She shakes her head and looks away from me. "No… I… can I just wait in the car?" I look around us. The place is deserted and I really could use a minute or two in order to catch my breath because if I don't, I'll just go back to the way things were. To wanting to protect her from things that hurt more than a shot to the chest… "Of course Miss Fields. Whatever you want." I tell her even though my brain wants to say something else entirely. I open the door for her and gently shut it as I head inside the convenience store.

I keep glancing at the car. Not out of concern for her safety but because I feel horrible. I actually like protecting Emily. I like carrying her crap, opening doors for her and I don't know hanging out with her in my room, making fun of her classmates and teachers. But now I can't and I don't know where to draw the line so she feels comfortable around me again. I close my eyes and sigh. I feel so stupid; I thought we were at least… something… I don't know. I pour my coffee and begin preparing it the way I like it while thinking of ways to give Emily her space or whatever the fuck. Maybe I do treat her like a baby. I don't know. I grab some water and a pack of gum before heading to the register. As I'm heading back to the car I'm hoping that it gets easier to pretend. Hopefully after a while I'll actually stop pretending and I really will be able to have nothing but a formal, business relationship with Emily. I open my door and sigh because even I know that it's bullshit.

"Fucking Jesus!" I shout as I come face to face with Emily who moved to the front seat. She laughs through the tears as she looks at me. She scared the shit out of me. "Sorry Em…I mean Miss Fields. You… you were just unexpected." She frowns. "Would you please stop calling me that?" I stare at her because I don't know what she wants from me. "I… sure Miss… Umm… Emily?" I ask her, unsure of how to navigate this. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry… I know I shouldn't have taken it out on you… again… so I'm sorry." I nod and stare at her, still gripping my coffee and water bottle to my chest. I don't really know what to say and the safest option so far has been to keep my mouth shut so I take a sip of coffee and stare at her. She sniffles and wipes at her eyes. "It's really not your fault… I just… I'm so tired of them acting this way, you know? It was fine when I was a freshman and my dad was just in politics. And then when he asked me and my mom if he could run for president, we said that it was fine because we didn't really think about it. And then, when he started becoming more renowned as a way to get his name out there, to prepare people for the possibility of him running for this election, my friends started acting different around me. Especially my teammates. It was as if they didn't know me anymore. You know?" I don't know but I nod anyway. She wipes at her eyes and looks out the window. "At first I didn't notice how different things were between us because I was trying so hard not to drown with grades and swimming… but then… little things just kind of added up… like they would just forget to invite me to wherever they were going, saying that I was finishing up some laps and that they didn't want to bother me." She cries harder at this but doesn't stop talking.

"Do you know how much it sucks for your friends to just shut you out? All because of something you can't control? And then… then my dad announces that he's running for president and starts going on his stupid campaign trail and he's so excited about meeting all these people and about making a difference and my mom is right there with him and I feel so terrible because every time they call or skype I see how happy they are and I can't find it in myself to tell them that I'm absolutely miserable because I feel that it's my fault. Like I'm just having a hard time adjusting to college even though I know it's more than that because before it wasn't like this… and I can't tell my parents that I want to go somewhere else because I'm not even halfway through my first semester as a sophomore. So I just smile and pretend that everything is fine even though I feel so lonely all the time because no one wants to just talk to me. They want to talk at me or talk about me. But not to me… and… fuck… just… it's so hard to do this sometimes. You know? Like really hard because I look at Shelby and Taylor and all those other girls and I remember the summer before we started here when we were all 17 and it didn't matter who my dad was and now it's all they can see because his face is everywhere and it just… it sucks okay? It just sucks." I swallow the lump in my throat. Emily wipes her face with her hands and looks my way. "And I know that they're just jealous or whatever. Spencer and Hanna and Aria have told me this like a million times but it still doesn't change the fact that it sucks because I'm thinking: what if they're actually right? Like what if maybe I'm not the girl that my parents think I am? Maybe I'm not the person anyone thinks I am." She sighs. "I mean… if I was, wouldn't I be having this amazing college experience instead of just being so miserable all the time?"

* * *

**Author's Note:** In anticipation of PLL tomorrow I bring you this… Also I should have told you guys to prepare yourself for all the feels in the world… all of them.


	13. Gas Station Confessions

I don't know what to say because I thought she was better at this whole college thing than I was. She looked like she was breezing through it. Like this was exactly where she belonged; where she wanted to be. Every single day she woke up annoyingly happy to go to swim practice before dawn. Emily teased me about how weird it was that I was able to drink coffee before running in the morning because she could barely eat out of sheer excitement. I watched her practice from my spot above the natatorium. Guarding Emily from above, in my own little bubble. I saw how she gave it her all, cutting through the water like she was born to do that and nothing else. Then I took my shower and sat around her practices, when all the girls would come in. They would practice and leave, in a hurry to further ice out Emily, not understanding that it was pointless for them to cut their showers short. She always stayed an extra hour while they ran back to bed because as athletes they had certain privileges regarding their schedules. They could have the mornings off and the majority chose to sleep. Emily stayed behind to keep perfecting her strokes, tightening her turns and running through drills so that she would be better than she had been the day before. Not to compete against her friends, but to compete against herself. And because of this, she was also one of the only girls who took full advantage of the physical therapists and personal trainers paid to be there for them on and off season. The other girls didn't see all the hard work she puts into swimming. They only see the end results: Emily constantly beating them and getting preferential treatment by the coaching and support staff. It's no wonder they hated her.

Not just that but most seniors are burnt out from swimming at such a competitive level for so long without being scouted to something more permanent. For having to choose between sponsorships and swimming for their university. They knew that they had peaked or that they had too many injuries or not enough drive to keep sacrificing things for this sport. Simply put, Emily still enjoyed swimming and they didn't. The probably did at the start but now their worries became more tangible than just being the best in the pool. They were worried about leaving college. Most were fifth year seniors; they wanted an extra year or two to enjoy the benefits of being an athlete just a bit longer. They had waltzed through life on their athletic merits alone and they realized that outside of this campus, they wouldn't be able to do that anymore. On top of that, their whole identities were built around this one thing. Those girls were probably swimming before they could actually walk and then, one by one, they realized that all the hours, all the people they didn't talk to, the parties they missed out on… they would be gone in addition to swimming. Once they left university that was it for them and their sport. They could swim in clubs but that would be at their own expense, they would have to get jobs to fund the coaches, pool time and all the other things required to compete. It must be tough. Add Emily to the equation and I bet it's brutal. No wonder they were constantly rejecting her. She reminded them of everything they weren't. Of all the things they were about to lose and couldn't have back because all their lives revolved around being the best and suddenly it wouldn't matter outside of here if they could swim laps around the pool faster than everyone else. They would have to prove their worth outside the sport because not all of them were leaders, physical therapists or coaches in the making. They had lived for the sport but they were also slowly realizing that they should have wanted other things outside of it because graduation was coming and they were going to need to have some kind of plan for a world outside of countless hours training and swimming.

Emily wasn't as worried about leaving college as they were, even though, ironically enough, she was one of the few that spent most of her time inside the pool. She loves swimming but that's not all there is to her. She's desperate to try something outside of the pool too. Her TAs and professors know her by name, not because they look at the seating chart before they call on her to participate in class. They see that she's a hard worker and shower her with praise for being so determined to not just be another jock that expects a grade to be handed to them because they're essential to the team and sports in a university like this are far more important than the education the athletes receive. Her professors like knowing a girl that loves her sport and even though she doesn't have the perfect GPA, she still shows up to class on time and keeps up with the material without having to resort to buying her essays online. Her classmates tease her for being a teacher's pet but Emily just laughs and tells them that she doesn't mind because one of her best friends has parents who are teachers, so that's a compliment. This is why I'm absolutely blown away by her admission. Emily makes everything look so effortless that I'm stunned. From the outside she's having the perfect college experience. She's constantly saying hi to people, she's doing well in all her classes, she's a great swimmer and people constantly praise her so I don't understand how they can make her feel so bad while she's still trying very hard to move forward.

I feel like the world's shittiest agent because I can't believe that I didn't notice how miserable she was. I simply took everything at face value. She seemed happy so I thought that she was actually happy. I had no reason to question it. But looking back at things with this knowledge fresh in my mind, I want to just punch myself in the face for being so blind to it. I was too enthralled by her to realize that there was more to her whole college experience than she let on. Here I thought she was just sad about her ex not letting her move on or me being too overprotective or so many other things like missing her parents because they seemed to be very close. I stared at Emily and my heart broke for her because now it all made sense. Why she preferred being holed up in the dorms or taking late night walks to think, when nobody would be around. Why she liked watching black and white horror movies with me, skyping with her parents and high school friends or studying by the window in my room instead of being an out of control college student. It was her last year here and most girls her age would try faking being sick so they could shake their agent and get into some real trouble. When a 21 year old met certain restrictions for their own safety, instead of shrugging it off and adjusting almost painlessly to the change in their lives, they would be fighting it. Any other girl would be drinking, partying and ditching classes. She was a senior with few responsibilities because she was a top performing athlete that had her teachers and the coaches wrapped around her fingers. Instead she went to every class, never missed a practice and stayed locked up inside her dorm. I should have found it weird that Emily seemed almost _relieved_ to avoid crowds, to take side doors so we wouldn't have to bump into people. But I didn't question it. I thought she was shy. That she took swimming and her grades seriously because without those two elements she would lose her sports scholarship. But she wasn't the only girl on the team with a scholarship, there were others that were on academic probation and the coaches still found a way to keep them on the team. I shook my head at myself because of course Emily would do this. She would feel out of place with everyone around her and still try to get some sense of normalcy. Of course she would look at the positive things this whole experience had to offer, inadvertently shielding me and her parents from all the ugly details regarding her teammates constantly icing her out. And now I finally understood how far they had gone to make sure there was no room for her anywhere on campus, not even in the pool.

She was crying and I just wish I had the magic words to make this all go away. To have the pain of being singled out as the girl they would all hate because of things that were beyond her control, like their petty insecurities. But I don't. I don't know how to comfort her because my first instinct is to hold her in my arms and just kiss her until she can forget everything but that won't solve a thing. My second instinct is to run away from this. From her. Because I have no clue what the fuck I'm doing and I know that I will somehow fuck it up. I look at her, put the drinks down and just sort of grab her because I can't hug her with the center console between us. She jumps at my touch and I start rubbing circles with my hand that's on her back and she relaxes again. My other hand squeezes her knee and she smiles weakly as she looks over to me. I want myself to stop feeling this anxious but I can't. I'm just worried that I'll screw this all up and make her feel worse. "People suck." I blurt out and she nods at me while studying me. I'm too nervous to meet her eyes so I keep talking as a way to distract her from that. "I mean. I think your mom and your other friends that keep telling you that these girls are jealous are right." I hear her scoff at this and I continue trying to explain myself. "I mean. Of course you know that and it hasn't made this any easier but it's true Em. I… I think that your real friends would be happy that you're kicking that much ass in the swimming pool and you know, like in class or whatever. Even if it meant that you were better than them because it's not about them and their ego. It's about you. Being happy for you and celebrating how awesome you are. Because that's what friends do. They don't compete against you but cheer you on. Friends are happy when the people they care about, the people they love, are happy as well and they only push you to be a better person if they see that what you're doing is making you miserable. Not try to perpetuate that misery by shutting you out. If they do this, they're not really your friends… I mean… I think it's selfish to want you to stop being good at what you love just because it makes them feel bad for not being as good at it. That's just them being insecure about themselves and trying to bring you down instead of trying to become better. It shows that they can't beat you in the pool so they try to beat you in all other aspects of your life so it can affect your performance. You know? Like I doubt that the friends that told you that these girls were jealous tell you to suck at swimming so that they can feel good about whatever it is that they're doing. Right? Or that your parents call you and tell you to fail your classes so that they don't feel insecure about their own accomplishments." I bite the inside of my cheek as I wait for her to say something. Instead she stays quiet and looks out the front window, her eyebrows scrunching together.

I don't know how long we sit there, with me rubbing her back and Emily thinking everything over. I feel more nervous about touching her when I don't even know if I'm making her uncomfortable or if she even notices it at all. I finally stop and am about to pull my hand away when she turns over to look at me again. "Do you think I'm just being stupid over all this?" Her voice is so small and uncertain that my hand instantly stays rooted to where it is; wanting in some small way to reassure her that it's not. "No. I mean. If it feels like they're shutting you out, then they probably are. I don't understand why you're working so hard to be their friend when they're being assholes though." Emily shrugs as she looks away again. "I don't know… I guess… I guess I just know how amazing they are. They're not bad people. At all… they're all great to hang out with and we do have fun." I grit my teeth, trying to keep my voice calm. "When they let you hang out with them that is." Her shoulders drop. "Yeah." She says, sounding defeated about this. "But I don't know. I mean what if they're right and I have changed? What if I am different and-" I scoff. "And what, stuck up and snobby? Come on Emily, you're none of those things if you're feeling bad about them possibly feeling bad instead of feeling angry at them for being dicks. If I were you I'd just punch them all in the face and tell them to go fuck themselves." Emily turns around and laughs. "Like you did with Agent Scott?" She asks me, suddenly serious and I nearly choke while breathing. I study her carefully and the way her eyes are looking at me, daring me to lie to her. I blush, embarrassed that she heard us. Ashamed that she wasn't asleep that day because I thought she was. I thought Bagel and I were the only ones awake in the car when he apologized for something that was mostly my fault. I shouldn't have lost my cool and blown up on him… but I had… I sigh. "Yeah. Just like that." She tilts her head and I blush under her scrutiny. I look down at the top of my coffee because I don't want her to see too much. "Why did you guys fight?" I bite my lip and look up at her. "You were there." She shakes her head. "I know, but all I got from that conversation is that he thought he deserved to be punched and that he was sorry for implying something… is that why you punched him? For something he said?"

I lick my lips and take my hand back, the shame of being unable to control myself rising in me again. "Yeah… he… I…" I take a deep breath and look out the front window, but it's no use, I can still feel the way she looks at me. I don't want to tell her that it was mostly because he was meant to protect her from people like me. People that could hurt her… and he hadn't… I was pissed that he couldn't do his fucking job and I had to do it for him… after it was too late. "A lot of older agents get a little… jealous… when it comes to me being so high up when it takes them years to climb the ranks… they think it's just due to me being a third generation agent. That my dad or grandpa pulled some strings to get me to where I am. Forgetting that I'm where I'm supposed to be because of my own merits. So they occasionally give me shit about it…" I shrug at this, because I really don't want to go into detail. It still hurts… a part of me thinks it will always hurt, having to prove to everyone over and over again that you're actually good at your job. That you even got a fucking medal from the president to prove that being bear bait wasn't for nothing. I rub my forehead and Emily breaks the silence. "So is this an agent thing? Punching you way out of problems or…?" I laugh. "Naa. I always hung out with guys, so you know, if you have a problem with them, you say it, punch each other in the face and that clears the air. You're cool. He's cool. You can go back to being bffs and braiding each other's hair or whatever." Emily laughs at this. "Remind me never to piss you off then. I doubt I could punch you hard enough to get you to forgive me." I laugh and look over at her. I don't know when she stopped crying but seeing her happy and laughing over this… it makes me feel a whole lot better.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

When we finally park close to the dorms I yawn and pull my cellphone out, texting Coach Fulton to let her know that we got back safely. She answers right away. I open my door as quietly as I can and unload our bags from the trunk, trying to close it as gently as I can. I look up and Emily is still in the same position she was before I got out. I go up to her door and open it as slowly as I can, catching her body with my hands so it doesn't jerk too much. She shifts and goes back to sleep. She's probably as exhausted as I am. I shake her shoulder as gently as I can while saying her name. She opens her eyes and looks confused. "Are we home yet?" She asks me sleepily. I smile at her and brush her hair back, placing it behind her ear, before answering. "Yeah. I have our stuff right here." She nods and yawns as she unbuckles her seatbelt. Her eyes still look a bit unfocused. She gets out of the car and I grab our bags. She stretches and then reaches out for her stuff. "Come on Em." I try protesting as we play tug of war with her bag. "Fine." She sighs, defeated. I smile and as I'm putting the strap over my shoulder she quickly grabs my bag, snatching it from my loosened grasp. I'm about to argue with her but she shakes her head. "You can't always carry everything." Before I can say anything she turns around and walks towards the dorms.

We walk towards the side entrance in silence. I'm thinking about all the things she told me, how she was able to confide in me but not her parents or her friends from back home and I feel myself blush. I bite my lip to keep myself from smiling and wonder how I can help her feel less alone here. She deserves to fit in because sure, the agents were dicks sometimes but they were also my brothers. We all kind of grew up together. Even if they still sometimes resented me over the fact that I was young and so far ahead in my career and implied that it had everything to do with my grandpa and my dad and nothing to do with me… they never gave me too hard a time. This is why, although I can relate to the jealousy that her teammates feel for her… I can't relate to the fact that they're constantly trying to make her feel bad about her own accomplishments because none of the agents have tried to do that with me… especially after I tried to save one of their own with complete disregard for my own life. Maybe they felt sorry for me for being a dumbass and going headfirst into a bear fight… or maybe they don't. I don't know. I'm too tired to think about this shit. Once we go inside I leave her bag outside her door because I don't want to invade her privacy and head to my room. Emily is standing in front of my bed, texting someone and I smile because I like the idea of Emily being comfortable in here. I don't know why. She puts her phone in her pocket and looks over at me, smiling like today wasn't a shitty day for her. I smile back and look down at my feet. I don't want her to see me blush. She walks over and stops in front of me. I look up and she smiles at me. "Thanks for everything Paige… I… it really helped to have someone to talk to." I shake my head and tell her that it was nothing. She frowns at this and I'm confused. "Don't do that… don't sell yourself short like that. It wasn't nothing. Not to me anyway." She kisses my cheek and wishes me a goodnight as she closes the door behind her. I can feel myself stop breathing and I don't know if I'll ever remember how to start again.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay, I wanted to publish this chapter a whole lot sooner but I ended up deleting and re-writing it three times. Three times! But it is slightly longer, so yay?

Also, _**cici**_, thank you for your always wonderful reviews regarding how you perceive the characters and their internal struggles, because that is what I want. For people to see that struggle between what you want and what you think will make you feel good and what you actually have, it's a parallel that you very well pointed out. For Paige it's the romance/work part and for Emily it's her indentity/acceptance but they're both going through their own thing.


	14. Volunteering

I'm lying in my bed and even though I'm beyond exhausted from driving all day on practically zero sleep, I feel absolutely wired. I know it wasn't the coffee. I didn't feel this way on the whole drive back. It's new. I exhale and turn on my side, staring at the wall. I can't keep still so I turn over on my back and then back to the wall again. I'm itching to go for a run, to jump, to… to just do something so I can burn off all this excess energy. I need to sleep but I'm wide awake and I can't shut my brain off. It has gone into overdrive. I'm only thinking about one thing. I try to clear my mind but I just go back to replaying today. To Emily kissing me. I never want to lose the feeling of her lips on my skin… even if it was a completely platonic thing and it was on my cheek or whatever… it still happened.

I sigh because even though I feel amazing and more awake than I have in days, there's a nagging sensation in the back of my mind since I didn't notice what Emily was going through all this time. I feel bad about it. Like I should have seen all the signs; figured it out sooner… done things differently… I _am _the agent assigned to her after all. I frown as I turn on my stomach and hug my pillow, not being able to go to sleep, my excitement quickly turning into annoyance. I know that it's stupid to blame myself for overlooking this but I still can't help myself from doing it. I'm trained to look at the world differently than most people. I have to be alert constantly. I'm always aware of my surroundings so that I can keep my protectee safe. So not seeing something that was right in front of me, day in and day out… it makes me feel like the fucking kid everyone keeps pointing out I am.

But then again… this was something that Emily had been struggling with for a while. She kept this from her parents. How lonely she felt… how the whole college thing wasn't really what it was cracked out to be anymore because all of her friends kept icing her out. Even her best friends from back home didn't know the full extent of it. They heard bits and pieces but not the whole truth. The lengths the rest of the swim team went through just to make her, the anchor of their team, feel as unimportant to them as a water boy… so should I really feel guilty for not noticing this when she kept it a secret from those closest to her? She _had_ been hiding it for years… so it was logical that she would have just gotten better at burying all of these things… so good in fact that I could easily overlook it… right?

All of this doesn't make the guilt that is eating away at me disappear. It's probably because I also feel like I can't feel happy about the kiss or that Emily confided in me. _Me_. Over her mom or her dad… fuck, even her _friends_. And they are close. Like _super_ close. She might not talk to them every week but they still have this… this connection, where they can look at each other through a computer screen and just understand what the other is trying to say. They don't even have to type or say anything at all… and it hadn't been them. It was me. And that made me incredibly happy… but I also feel kind of shitty because I don't want Emily to have to go through this. I frown, hoping that this doesn't make me a terrible person. _Ughh… this is so frustrating. I wish that my brain knew what emotion to feel around Emily. _I think as I turn over and reach for my phone.

I want to check the time but I also don't want to see it because it will only stress me out even more. I know that I'm not going to be able to get much sleep tonight either. I put the phone under my pillow. Resting my palm over its smooth surface while I pretend to be asleep… it's a silly trick I would do as a kid, back when Grandpa Allen and I shared a room. He would always go to bed early and because my dad didn't want me sneaking into the room later and wake him up, we would just go to bed at the same time. In our twin beds with matching sheets. At first I was too small to really care. But, as I got older, I would find it hard to adhere to his schedule because he fell asleep much earlier than I would have liked. I wanted to stay up late, like all the kids at my school did. I couldn't do this because whenever my dad was home, he would always check up on us and I had to lay very still in my bed, pretending to be asleep so he wouldn't look disappointed in me the next morning during breakfast. I don't know exactly when I stopped pretending and just drifted off. I only remember waking up to my grandpa's warm hands on my shoulders, gently shaking me awake.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"Come on Paige, we're going to be late." I feel my shoulders shake but I'm not ready to wake up for morning exercises so I pull the covers over my head and mumble at my grandpa. "It's a snow day grandpa, I swear… just don't look outside." I hear laughter above me and I try to fall asleep again. "No. Paige, don't. You need to get up or else coach will kill me." That jolts me awake because my grandpa doesn't have a coach but Emily does. "Hey." I say, trying to sound as casual as I possibly can while still hiding under the covers. I hear Emily laughing above me as she pulls the covers down. "Grandpa?" She asks me while smiling, clearly finding it funny that I overslept and then confused her for my grandfather. I shrug as I try to smile at her. This is a little embarrassing. I feel myself blush so I quickly get out of bed, looking for my phone. Wondering why my alarm didn't go off. Emily bends down and picks it up from the floor. "Looking for this?" She asks, teasing me. Clearly not ready to let me off the hook for oversleeping and wanting it to be a snow day. I roll my eyes at her and try to snatch it from her hand but she easily avoids my uncoordinated attempt. I need coffee before I can pretend to act like a decent human being and she knows it.

Emily smirks as she turns over and unlocks the screen. I lunge for it but she laughs as she extends her hands above her. And even though I'm slightly taller than her, I can't seem to get a good grasp on it. Emily laughs as she looks at how many times I hit snooze without managing to wake up. "So you have three alarms and you hit snooze like nine times… and nothing?" She teases me and I blush all the way down to my neck. I really should put a fucking password on my phone… "I guess. I don't know… I was really tired." Emily laughs and I can feel her joy against me as she nearly falls over. I don't think she finds my excuse to be very good but I use this to my advantage, taking my phone back from her before she opens my emails… I really don't want her to open up some of the images the guys send around to all the agents because they're a bit… well who the fuck am I kidding, they mostly send porn around or lewd jokes… and even though I appreciate it because it's the closest I will be to a girl since my last relationship blew up in my face… I really don't want Emily to see them. I throw Emily on the bed and laugh.

"I hope your little stunt was worth it. Now we are officially late and coach will probably punish both of us… unless I can place all the blame on you." Emily fake gasps as I open the closet. I'll just have to shower when we get back. "Me? You're the one that overslept!" She says as she throws a pillow at me. Hitting me square in the back as I'm taking off my shirt. "Ouch." I complain as if it actually hurt before laughing it off. "You think your coach will believe you… or me? And before you answer that… remember that I'm a Secret Service Agent… plus I have an extremely trustworthy face." I say as I turn around, remembering that I need to put on deodorant first… which is in the bathroom. Emily is staring at me and I blush because I realize why she's staring. I only own hideously utilitarian sports bras… they're not sexy like the ones girls wear in catalogues. They're functional and that's all they are. Her eyes go from my bra, down to the waistline of my pants and back up again. I look down at myself and see that my underwear doesn't even match. _Of course. The only day Emily looks at me like this and I can't even match the three fucking colors I own_. I nod and head to the bathroom. Resigning myself to a life of spinsterhood.

When I come back into the room Emily is still sitting on the bed but it looks like she shifted around a bit. Like she was nervous. I give her a small wave and she looks down at the floor, blushing before biting her lip and looking up at me and then back at the floor again. Yeah. I would be embarrassed too if I had to witness this fashion mishap first thing in the morning. I grab an undershirt and pull it over my head and then, when I'm about to put on one of my white button up shirts, I decide not to. I could go for something a bit more casual today, since I'm a spinster and all… or because I don't know what we're going to be doing and I don't want to look as out of place as I usually do. I put the shirt back and head to the foot of the bed, where my unpacked bag is. I crouch down; looking for the sweater Emily gave me. Since it didn't really work for the whole team, maybe it's magic as a good luck charm is better used on my love life.

I grab it, pull it over my head and when I look up, Emily is still staring at me. I laugh at having caught her doing this and she blushes, quickly looking away, pretending that she wasn't looking at me, studying me. Figuring me out. It makes me nervous because I don't know what she's thinking. I smiles and try to hide how badly I want her to just tell me what's going on through her mind. "You know, you could make yourself a little more useful… like say… preventing a future murder by making me coffee… seeing as I am always more amicable with caffeine in me." Emily makes some unintelligible sound that I'm taking as a yes as she nods and blushes, walking out the door. "Two sugars and one cream." I yell after her, even though she already knows this. I just want to seem completely unaffected by her.

When she closes the door behind her I sigh in relief because this is exactly what I wanted to avoid. I stare at my thighs, even though they're covered, I know where they are. I walk up to the closet and grab a pair of jeans, quickly glancing at the door before changing as fast as I can. In case Emily walks in… it's not that I mind undressing in front of people… it's just that… I've been a little more self-conscious about myself ever since that stupid Alison girl and I met… I haven't really taken my pants off in front of anyone else. Part of it is because of the scars themselves, they're hard to ignore and they lead into the larger part. The one I want to avoid. Where people's opinions of me change because of them, of how they got there… once they learn what happened their demeanor changes and I hate being pitied. I rub my face and let out a long breath. I need to finish getting ready so we can get there on time.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"This is a fucking logistical nightmare." I say to myself as we enter the soup kitchen where Coach Fulton arranged for the girls to serve out their time for being the world's lousiest drunks. They're not the first college kids to drink… but they're the ones stupid enough to drink so much that they puke all over the gym at an away game. I had called ahead to get some sort of layout of the place and to check if they had some security detail or something. But nooo. This last minute punishment did not have in mind that Emily _fucking_ Fields would be in some _fucking_ health hazardous kitchen… that's without taking into account the fact that everyone will be peeling potatoes or chopping things… you know, with knives and sharp fucking objects. I really should just stab her in the face and get this over with because that is the only way this day is going to end.

_Fuck_.

Coach Fulton is smiling at us even though we walked in late. The rest of the girls glare at Emily and if I had the energy to spare, I would roll my eyes at them, but I'm too busy just trying not to dye from the enormity of the task at hand. I can't believe these assholes expect me to keep Emily fucking safe in this deathtrap. I wonder if I should just set everything on fire and give up on my dream of being an agent. Maybe I should just become a certified punching bag, because after today that will be my only career option. Coach Fulton walks over to us and before I can let her know that I don't really think that this is going to work due to the fact that my job is to keep Emily from being kidnapped or hurt… or assassinated… the opposite of letting her stay in an unsecured room with a bunch of angry and resentful girls holding sharp implements she guides us through a door, a small hallway that looks like it should be haunted and into a small office that smells like mothballs and an overrun litter box… there are no cats in this whole building… unless they cooked them all… which… judging from what they'll be serving later, could be the main ingredient in the sloppy joe meat.

"All right Emily. Since you didn't really drink like the rest of the girls but still have to be held to the same standards as your teammates in order to show unity, whether we win or lose… I talked to my contacts here and they could really use our help rearranging their files and receipts. So if you don't mind doing paperwork instead of kitchen prep and serving, you should be able to tackle all of this by the time the team learns the lesson I'm trying to get across." Emily nods and smiles. Coach Fulton pats her back encouragingly and exits the room. When the door closes behind her Emily groans in frustration and as she sits on the desk a pencil holder topples to the floor. Pens and pencils spill all over the place and Emily's shoulders drop. She sighs and bends down to pick everything she accidentally dropped. I crouch down to help her. We work together in complete silence. I think we both understand that even though Coach Fulton is doing _me_ a favor by having Emily work away from the kitchen she's also unwittingly hurting _Emily_ by further isolating her from her teammates. Making them resent her for what they see as favoritism because Emily gets to avoid doing all the grunt work in the kitchen and then serving the food. They only see this incomplete picture. Not how it hurts and frustrates her not being able to be with her friends.

"I'm sorry I'm being such a klutz." Emily tells the floor. "It's just… you know?" She asks me and I'm not sure if she means it rhetorically or not but I nod anyway. I do know. "Sorry." I apologize because I understand that I'm partly to blame. If I wasn't here, she would probably be down the hall with her friends… hell she would have been one of the ones that threw up before the meet because her teammates would have no reason to push her away. "Why are you sorry?" She asks, genuinely confused as I hand her what I picked up. I look down at the floor and then back up at her. "I don't know." I lie.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

It feels like we've been here forever and I wish I could say that I didn't know how Emily conned me into helping her sort everything out but I would be lying. I practically jumped at the chance to work next to her. Even if it's not in my job description and it's something I would have found a way to get out of had it been suggested by anyone else. I tell myself that it's either this or standing in the corner, bored out of my fucking mind because there is no way someone will try to even accidentally come in here. Much less murder someone. But I know it's not true. I like constantly bumping into her in this overcrowded office. Even if I'm hot. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and fan myself with the receipts folder I'm holding. _Fuck this shit_. I feel super gross right now. I stretch my neck from side to side and look at the door, trying to summon Coach Fulton so that she can tell us that we're free from this shit hole and we can shower. I blush because my mind instantly goes to Emily and me showering together.

"You know, you make a better door than a window." Emily says as she pushes me back, trying to get a better look at some boxes behind me. If I had been paying attention, I wouldn't have lost my balance. I fall back, right into a couple of boxes and the top one falls, papers scattering everywhere. "Noo! Paige look at what you did!" Emily says, sounding more tired than mad. "And I had _just_ finished arranging that box." I smile at her because she looks really cute when she's kind of annoyed and she frowns, punching me lightly on the shoulder. Letting me know that she's not as mad as she wants to appear to be. I rub my shoulder and let my arm hang limp. "Emily. I think you broke it." I say as I lift it with my other hand and let it drop to my side. "Shut up. I did not." She says, laughing and rolling her eyes. I smile at her but I don't move my left arm. "You know… you should kiss it to make it better." Emily's eyes widen and she punches me again. This time a little harder. "Shut up! I'm not kissing you until you clean this mess up!" My mouth drops open and I look around the room. "What? I'm not the one that went all Terminator on my arm!" I tell her as I point to my arm, as if that proves why she should be the one to clean it up. Emily rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. I open my mouth to protest but she just shakes her head as she sits down on the desk and lifts one of her eye brows, as if telling me that it's my move. I groan and make a big show out of bending down and placing the box upright. She crosses her legs and shakes her head while narrowing her eyes at me. God she is so fucking sexy. "Now Paige… you know I spent a lot of time arranging those receipts… so you better do a good job." I know I can't be blushing because all the blood as gone from my face to my stomach and then further down. I really shouldn't be thinking dirty things about her.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

I'm almost done rearranging the receipts and Emily decided that staring at me from the top of the desk is more fun than actually doing work. She's lying on her stomach, her elbows near the edge and her head lazily resting on top of her hands. Emily is laughing as she's telling me how during junior year one of Hanna's friend's, Mona, had a 'Camp Mona' themed birthday party and she ended up with hair that was taller than her friend Aria. "And mind you, Aria is pretty tiny to begin with, so it's probably not that big of a feat to make hair that tall… but it was hideous and I had to look like a poodle for the rest of the night." I'm laughing at her description of this when coach knocks on the door and comes in… "Ohh I see that not only are you here playing secretary but you also got your lapdog to do your dirty work for you." Shelby says as she walks through the door… well it's not coach. That's for sure. Emily blushes and she gets up from the desk. "I'm… I mean… I'm not… she…" Emily says, trying to explain but only being able to stutter random words at Shelby. "Whatever… just wait until I tell the team that you're not even being punished while we're all working our asses off." Emily tries to walk towards Shelby to stop her but the other girl just rolls her eyes. "See. I knew you fucking sold us out to coach… only cry babies get special treatment." My jaw clenches. _I really fucking hate that girl_. Shelby turns around and slams the door shut behind her. Emily looks like she's torn between crying and going after her. I stand up and put my hand on her shoulder but she just shrugs it off before making up her mind and going after her teammate.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I am super sorry for not updating as soon as I wanted to. But here it was, and it ended up being longer than I originally thought it would be and they are getting, as Tegan and Sara would say, closer. So there. Please accept this enclosed apology disguised as a chapter.


	15. Comfort

"Emily, wait!" I shout as I run after her. She's halfway down the hall before I can grab her arm in order to stop her. She tries to fight against my grip, but expecting resistance, I simply hold on tighter; pulling her back towards me. She makes a low, frustrated noise in the back of her throat as she turns around, snatching her arm back from my grasp. Her hands come up to her waist, involuntarily balling up into fists, ready for a fight. I want to put some distance between us, take a step back or two, forget the whole thing and just let her go. But I don't. This is important. I step closer, instead. Wanting to affect her the way she affects me, to have her anger just melt away by my presence alone. "Listen Paige, I know that you don't really think much of my friends… but they're still _my_ friends, they're-" She doesn't know how to finish her thought so instead she pushes my shoulders back out of frustration.

It's a different kind of lashing out. One that I understand. One that doesn't hurt me as much as last time. So I ignore it. "I know that. I do." Emily rolls her eyes at me while shaking her head. Skeptical and daring me to prove her wrong. "Emily." I sigh her name, tired all of a sudden. "Just because I think they're jerks doesn't mean that… I mean…" _Fuck, what do I mean?_ I stop and look down at my hands, turning them over so I have something to do while I organize my thoughts. "This isn't about that. It's about you running in there all pissed off and me, with my piece, running right behind you. You understand?" Emily's face goes from defiant to confused, scrunching up as her eyes search me. Trying to figure out what I mean and coming up short. I scratch the back of my neck, feeling nervous. The way I always do when she stares at me for too long.

"Most of your teammates know I'm an agent, right?" She nods as she turns away, staring at the end of the hall before turning back to me. "Well having this vague idea of what my job entails and actually seeing me in there, looking all worried and pissed off with a gun strapped to me… they're two very different things." I watch as she thinks this over and then looks down at my gun. Emily frowns because she both understands what I'm telling her and doesn't. "Like I said, your friends are jerks by my definition of friends, but that doesn't mean that I'm trying to stop you from talking shit out with them. Hell I'll even bring the guitar to this kumbaya prayer circle or whatever the fuck… but maybe we can try to do it some other time… like when my gun is concealed." I point towards my weapon to emphasize my point but even as Emily nods, her body is still tense. She's still trying to fight me on this. Even when she shouldn't.

"Because you know that if they see me like that, running in there with my gun… even if it's not drawn… then I'm not just someone that happens to be following right behind you all the time. I become this very real and very dangerous person that they will want to _avoid_..." I watch her face fall and just like that, the fight drains out of her. She crosses her arms over her chest, hugging herself, as if that could protect her from the truth. That her friends would also want to avoid Emily because wherever she goes, I go. And wherever I go, so does my gun. I don't want to disrupt her life further by giving her friends another reason to ice her out… although it doesn't seem to matter either way, because they're doing fine in that department on their own.

She rubs her arms with her hands and then nods. Silently telling me that she understands what I'm doing. She lets out a long breath that seems to deflate her whole body and I feel almost like it does the same for me. I don't want to see her this sad but I can't do anything else. "Just wait here. I'll get our sweaters." She nods and turns her whole body away from me. I run to the small office, even if it's unnecessary. Emily isn't even paying attention to me and I know that the reason why I'm running is because I want to prove to Emily that this is as important to me as it is to her. Instead of not wanting to leave her alone because it's my job to stay by her side.

Once I push the door open I slow down. Aware that if I knock over another box, Emily might make me stay here the whole day, just sorting it all out. I shiver at that. I'm already sweaty enough, I can feel the dust from disturbing everything cling to my skin, so I really _really_ need a shower. Instead I get this stupid high school drama bullshit her so-called friends keep unnecessarily bringing up every chance they get. I grab my sweater off the top of a filing cabinet and slip it on. Then I crouch down and look for Emily's sweater under the desk.

I come out of the office to see Emily standing in the same spot as before. Except now she's biting her lip while looking down at the ground in front of her. Frowning at whatever she's thinking about. I close the door and walk up in front of her, letting my feet come into her view. She looks up at me and smiles sadly. "Ready to show Shelby the new apology bracelet you made for her in arts and crafts?" I asked her jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. Emily shakes her head from side to side while she tries to hold back a smile. The corners of her mouth turn up slightly as she pushes my shoulder back. It's different than before and I smile because it means that she's feeling better.

But this feeling doesn't really last long. When we go into the kitchen the excited voices we heard before we went through the doors goes completely silent. All of Emily's teammates stare at her and then go back to whispered conversations. Coach Fulton nods and then talks to the team about what she hopes to accomplish here and talks about the importance of giving back to the community. She might have talked about peeling potatoes for an hour for all I heard. Although the rest of the girls seemed to be paying attention, all I could see was how uncomfortable Emily looked. How she kept looking around the room and then down at Coach Fulton's feet. Not listening to a word she was saying.

When we were dismissed, instead of wanting to linger back to see what plans her friends had, Emily grabbed her cellphone from her pocket and pretended to be distracted by what was on the screen. I put my hand on her lower back and led her out the door we came in and into the car. When I opened my door she didn't look up from her phone, even though she didn't have to act like she was busy anymore. "You okay?" I ask, Emily just shakes her head and looks out the window as I drive us to the dorms.

We climb the stairs up in silence and as soon as she unlocks the door, she goes into her room. I scratch the back of my neck and stand there, looking at her door. I want to comfort her but I don't know how so I do the one thing I can do. I grab some sweats from my room and jump in the shower. I'm going over things that I can say to her in my head but they all sound stupid. She already didn't like my advice on ditching her friends, and the last time I had an argument with anyone I ended up with a bloody face and a swollen fist, so of course I can see why my advice would kind of not be the best one to follow… but it doesn't stop me from just wanting to do something. I look down at my legs and trace my scars with my fingertips. I let the warm water hit my back while I do this. I've been clean for a while but I just can't really seem to leave. Both because it feels nice to finally be clean after a day like today and because I don't know what to say to Emily to just make her feel better… maybe there's nothing to say. I frown and turn the water off. After getting dressed I open the door to let the steam out and I look at Emily's door again. There's no light coming from under her door so she probably turned in early. _I'm sure I can talk to her in the morning or something._ I think, slightly disappointed.

I open my door and Emily is in my bed, talking on the phone. She hurriedly says goodbye to whomever she was talking to and wipes her eyes. Smiling sadly at me; I return her smile as I lean against the door. She rolls her eyes and pats the empty space next to her. I nod and throw my dirty clothes in the hamper inside my closet. Trying to slow down my breathing. Trying to slow down my heart. I walk across the room and lay down next to her.

It's uncomfortable for a couple of minutes. They were probably seconds, but they felt longer. It must have been the silence. "So…" I say nervously. "So." Emily echoes, slightly more confident. "Umm… who was on the phone? Your mom?" As soon as the last part comes out I want to slap myself because I do not want to think about Mrs. Fields at this very moment, with Emily in my bed, but it seems that my mouth doesn't care about what I want and easily sabotages me. "Spencer." She tells me and I nod. "What did she say?" I ask Emily, trying not to move. We're shoulder to shoulder on a bed that suddenly feels too small and if I turn, I'll be tempted to kiss her. We'd be nose to nose and it would be so easy to just lean forward.

Emily shrugs and I feel it against my body. I roll my eyes. "Come on Emily. What did she say? Where you guys talking about what happened today?" She stares at her phone and then crosses her arms. "No… what? Maybe. I don't know." I put my right arm under my head. Staring at the ceiling. "Bullshit. What did she say?" Emily shakes her head and wipes at her cheeks. Even though they're already dry. "Nothing." She tells me. "It's stupid. Okay?" It's my turn to shrug at her and she groans. "Fine. She… she just said some things. That's all. Okay? Are we done playing 20 questions?" Emily wants to sound frustrated but her voice cracks at the end. And even if that hadn't given her away, the fact that she was here, in my room, talking to Spencer, says everything.

"No. Because that wasn't even 10 questions. And because Spencer probably said something kinda bitchy that you agree with but don't want to agree with." Emily laughs and wipes at her eyes. "How?" She asks and I laugh. "Because it's Spencer." We both laugh at this and Emily shakes her head because we both know that Spencer doesn't mince her words when it comes to girls like Shelby. Emily lets out a big sigh and she turns on her side, looking directly at me. I'm too nervous to turn on my side so we can be face to face because I'm sure she'll be able to read my thoughts. She'll see it in my eyes that I'm interested as more than just an agent or even a friend. But I still scoot closer. Letting my body take up some of the space that she was on. It's still warm from her body and it makes me feel giddy inside. I could get used to this. Having a side of the bed with Emily. Never having another side be cool because she's always there to keep it warm.

Before my thoughts get out of control, I force myself to stop daydreaming and start paying attention to the real Emily. The one that's trying to avoid what Spencer and her talked about. I clear my throat so that it doesn't seem like I was zoning out and Emily groans. "Fine. Whatever. Yeah… we did talk about Shelby… but I don't know… I mean. Spencer is Spencer, right?" I turn my head over and stare at her. Emily rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically. "Fine… Spencer says that Shelby is just being petty… and that she wants to be team captain on her last year. And I was like, fine. I don't care. I don't even want to be captain, it's stupid. But she's like, why are you lying? And I tried to tell her I wasn't lying and she said," Emily coughs and lowers her voice, trying to imitate Spencer. "You know Emily, it's okay to want things." Emily scoffs at this and rolls her eyes. Trying to show that it's no big deal.

"So do you?" I ask her, sounding too serious for the lighthearted conversation she actually wanted. "Do I what?" She asks. Emily knows what I'm asking her but she's pretending not to. "Do you want things? Do you want this?" Emily frowns and comes closer to me, but doesn't answer right away. Instead she bites her lip and plays with the edge of my t-shit. "I don't know… is it bad? Do you think… to want things?" It feels like I'm holding my breath but I still manage to answer her. "No. No I don't." And it's the truest thing I've told her because I want things that I can't have either. Except she can have this. Emily's fingertips brush against my skin, from where she was playing with my shirt and I shiver, closing my eyes. "Then yeah. I do… I want this… but I just… I don't want to lose what I already have, you know?" I nod slowly and open my eyes. "Yeah… but you won't." I reassure her. "Yeah?" She asks me as she rests her head on my shoulder. "Yeah." I echo back to her as I automatically wrap my left arm around her.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Finally, an update! Sorry for taking so long. I just had school and life and work getting in the way. But I will try to participate in Paily Week 2 as a belated apology ;) so check out my tumblr for my contributions to Paily week because I'm too lazy to cross post them here as well.


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